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PACIFIC    CONFERENC 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

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Accession     10.1.8.30  ..       Class 


GEORGE  :WELLS  i  ARMES 

MEMORIAL  LIBRARY   *  *  * 
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"VISION"  OF  ST  DOMINIE.  P.  106. 


CAIRLTOH  &  PS1  RT  E  K. 


THE 

YOUNG   MAN'S   COUNSELLOR 

OR, 


THE  DUTIES   AND  DANGERS 

OF 

YOUNG   MEN. 


DESIGNED  TO  BE  A  GUIDE  TO  SUCCESS  IN  THIS  LIFE,  AND 
TO  HAPPINESS  IN  THE  LIFE  WHICH  IS  TO  COME. 


BY  REV.  DANIEL  WISE,  A.  M., 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  PATH  OF  LIFE,"  "  BHIDAI*  GREETINGS,"  "  UFB  O» 
ZtTINGLE,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


THIRTY-THIRD   THOUSAND. 

'         1         , 


PUBLISHED   BY   CARLTON   &    PORTER, 

200   MUT,  BERRY-  STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1850, 
BY  DANIEL  WISE, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of 

Massachusetts. 


TO 

THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF  AMERICA, 
is  Book 


AFFECTIONATELY  INSCRIBED  BY  THEIE  8INCEEE 
FBIEND  AND  WELL-WISHEE, 


DANIEL  WISE. 


101830 


PREFACE. 

I  LOVE  to  look  upon  a  young  man.  There 
is  a  hidden  potency  concealed  within  his 
breast  which  charms  and  pains  me.  I  si- 
lently ask,  what  will  that  youth  accomplish 
in  the  after- time  of  his  life  ?  Will  he  take 
rank  with  the  benefactors  or  with  the 
scourges  of  his  race?  Will  he,  erewhile, 
exhibit  the  patriotic  virtue  of  Hampden 
and  Washington,  or  the  selfish  craftiness 
of  Benedict  Arnold?  If  he  have  genius, 
will  he  consecrate  it,  like  Milton  and  Mont- 
gomery, to  humanity  and  religion ;  or,  like 
Moore  and  Byron,  to  the  polluted  altars  of 
passion?  If  he  have  mercantile  skill,  will 
he  employ  it,  like  Astor  or  Girard,  to  grat- 
ify his  lust  of  wealth;  or  to  elevate  and 
bless  humanity,  like  some  of  our  living 
merchant  princes  ?  If  the  gift  of  eloquence 
be  hidden  in  his  undeveloped  soul,  will  he 
use  it,  like  Summer-field,  in  favor  of  relig- 


VI  PREFACE. 

ion,  or  like  Patrick  Henry  and  Adams,  in 
battling  for  human  rights;  or  will  he,  for 
mammon's  sake,  prostitute  that  gift  to  the 
uses  of  tyranny  and  infidelity  ?  '  Will  that 
immortal  soul,  which  beams  with  intelli- 
gence and  power  in  his  countenance,  ally 
itself  with  its  Creator,  and  thus  rise  to  the 
sublime  height  of  its  destiny;  or  will  it 
wage  war  with  truth  and  duty,  and  thus 
sink  to  degradation  and  to  death?  As  I 
raise  these  great  queries,  I  at  once  do  rev- 
erence to  the  high  potentiality  of  his  nature, 
and  tremble  for  his  fate.  I  feel  a  desire 
arising  within  me  to  bear  a  part  in  guiding 
him  into  the  way  of  right,  duty  and  hap- 
piness As  a  fruit  of  that  often-felt  desire, 
I  have  written  this  book.  May  its  success 
equal  the  ardor  and  sincerity  of  my  wishes 
for  the  best  good  of  young  men. 

DANIEL  WISE. 
Fall  River,  Nov.  1850. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

YOUTHFUL   DAY-DREAMS   DISSOLVED. 

THE  young  man  invited  to  view  the  future  —  A  joyous  thought  —  A  young 
man's  dream  of  life  —  Disenchantment  —  The  sower  and  the  harvest  — 
The  young  man  a  sower  in  the  field  of  life  —  The  two  harvests  —  To  be  a 
young  man  a  very  serious  fact  —  Sailing  on  a  quiet  river,  and  steering 
through  dangerous  straits  —  The  enchanted  hill—  Life  an  enchanted  hill, 
with  many  victims  —  Every  young  man  who  falls  is  his  own  destroyer— 
The  Alpine  muleteer  and  the  meditative  man  —  An  enemy  at  home  — 
The  asp  —  The  young  man's  complaint  anticipated  —  Caution  the  parent 
of  success  —  Napoleon's  forecast  —  Dupont's  incaution  —  The  defeat  at 
Baylen  —  Every  young  man  may  conquer  the  obstacles  of  life — The  young 
man  should  cheerfully  contend  for  success  — Alcinou's  Garden, .  .  .  .  13 

CHAPTER    II. 

THE   CORNER-STONE   OF   A   SUCCESSFUL  LIFE. 

The  stately  mansion  — Its  ruin  — The  owner's  folly  — Every  young  man 
is  constructing  a  character  —  Its  materials  —  Importance  of  a  right  found- 
ation—  Building  on  the  sand  —  Ruin  —  The  true  foundation  of  right 
character  —  The  temporal  advantages  of  a  religious  life  —  Prosperity  not 
the  exclusive  heritage  of  worldlings — Benefits  of  religion  —  The  lovely 
charmer  and  her  promises  —  Religion  not  the  only  path  to  temporal  good 

—  Worldlings  prosper  without  it  — No  tranquillity  to  mere  worldlings  — 
Confessions  of  Voltaire— Chesterfield  —  Lord  Byron  —  Nelson— Talleyrand 

—  Randolph  —  An  affecting  contrast  —  Religious  life  preferable  to  one  of 
profitable  sin  —  Extract  —  An  illustration  —  The  poisoned  water  —  Spe- 
cifics —  The  poisoned  heart  —  The  genius  of  the  world  and  religion  —  The 
choice  of  wisdom  —  An  appeal  —  Caution  —  Elements  of  success  in  life  — 
Religion  creates  them  all  —  Every  young  man  may  reach  success  through 
religion,    .  .  , r 26 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   III. 

.  INTEGRITY   NECESSARY   TO   SUCCESS   IN   LIFE. 

Integrity  — Its  nature  and  operations  —  Kossuth's  noble  reply—  Zuingle 
and  his  Papal  pension  —  The  Scotch  divines  and  their  opposition  to  stale 
control  —  A  sublime  scene  —  The  protest — The  secession  —  Excitement 

—  Joy  of  the  people  —  Tanfield  Hall  — Song  of  Joy  — Moral  beauty  of 
integrity  —  Integrity    inspires   confidence  —  It   gives    influence  —  The 
rivalry  of  Robespierre  and  Mirabeau  an  illustration  —  Exciting  scene  in 
the  Jacobin  Club—  Robespierre's  victory  —  The  secret  of  his  success  — 
Integrity  necessary  in  small  matters  — The  clerk,  the  mechanic,  the 
farmer,  the  artist,  exhorted  to  this  — Small  tests  not  to  be  despised - 
Their  effect  on  the  formation  of  right  habits  —  Luther  —  Zuingle  —  Kos- 
suth— A  counting-room  scene  — The  reward  of  integrity  — Lightning 
conductors  an  illustration  —  Gideon  Lee  and  the  goat-skins  —  The  young 
man's  resolve  — A  serious  question  —  Counting  the  cost  —  Religion  cre- 
ates integrity  of  the  highest  order  — Should  be  sought, 43 

CHAPTER  IV. 

INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  A  SUCCESSFUL  LIFE. 

A  German  legend  —  Knowledge  a  talisman  —  How  some  young  men  treat 
knowledge  —  The  influence  of  intellect  on  the  countenance  —  Influence  a 
result  of  intellectual  culture  —  Examples  in  the  lives  of  Franklin,  Crom- 
well, Eldon,  Burke,  Canning,  Brougham  —  The  sailor-boy's  reverie  at 
sea  —  Its  results  —  All  young  men  dream  of  being  successful  —  Why  so 
few  realize  their  hopes  —  The  price  of  success  —  Cicero  and  Demosthenes 

—  Sir  William  Jones  —  Newton  —  Burke  —  Michael  Angelo  —  John  Q. 
Adams  —  The  river  and  the  spring —  Any  young  man  may  be  successful, 
if  he  will  —  Poverty  no  necessary  hindrance  —  Cook,  Nelson,  Franklin, 
Eldon,  Ferguson,  Heyne,  Kirke  White,  &c.  —  Extract  from  Longfellow  — 
The  young  man  incited  to  effort  —  Religion  needed  to  guide  the  intellect  — 
Lord  Bacon — Rousseau  —  Voltaire  —  Byron  —  The  steam-ship  —  Poetic 
extract  —  Scene  in  an  ancient  village  —  The  secret  of  John  Bunyan's 
fame  —  Religion  and  its  influence  over  the  intellect  —  Its  great  thoughts 

—  Religious  faith  — Newton  — Richard  Wateon  —  Appeal  to  a  young 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ENERGY  AN    ELEMENT   OF    DISTINCTION. 

Impossible  the  adjective  of  fools  —  What  is  energy  —  Longfellow's  Excel- 
sior and  the  idea  of  energy  —  Energy  and  great  achievements  —  The  stu- 
dent at  college  — The  history  of  great  men  appealed  to  —  Christopher  Co- 
lumbus an  example  of  energy  —  Energy  can  overcome  every  obstacle  — 
Energy  distinguished  from  rashness  —  An  oriental  warrior  —  Mercantile 
Derars  —  A  sketch  proposed  —  Young  Edgar's  rashness  and  ruin  —  Hia 
mistake  explained —  Impulsive  energy  described  —  Its  uselessness  —  The 
snail  and  the  hare  —  Religion  a  means  of  developing  energy  —  Its  cen- 
tral command  —  Its  divine  aid  —  Its  requisition  of  might  in  everything — 
The  philosophy  of  success  —  Religion  must  be  sought,  .......  87 


CHAPTER  VI. 

INDUSTRY    THE   HIGHWAY    TO   SUCCESS. 

An  old  legend  —  The  recluse  —  The  angel's  visit  —  The  palm-tree  and  the 
rope  —  Moral  of  the  legend  —  Industry  essential  to  the  enjoyment  of 
life  —  Moments  —  ^Eropus  —  Prince  Bonbennin — The  swallow  —  Busy 
idlers  —  Goldsmith's  Croaker  —  Useful  pursuits  and  worthy  aims  neces- 
sary to  industry  —  What  rnay  be  accomplished  by  industry  —  John  Jacob 
Astor  —  James  and  John  Harper — Lieutenant  Governor  Armstrong  — 
William  Cobbett  —  Various  examples  of  industry  —  Industry  not  unfavor- 
able to  health  or  longevity  —  Henry  K.  White  —  The  Eastern  missionary 
— Dying  of  nothing  to  do  —  The  victim  of  self-indulgence  —  The  hunter 
and  the  spoiled  venison  —  Picture  of  an  idle  man  —  Desire  of  young  men 
for  an  idle  life  considered  —  A  life  of  idleness  a  curse  —  Effect  on  the 
intellect  —  Beautiful  ex  ict  from  Tennyson  —  Idleness  and  vice — The 
fate  of  the  idler  —  Extreli,  cases — The  Succedaneum  —  Life  reviewed  by 
an  idler  on  his  death-bed-  Religion  an  antidote  for  idleness — Quotation 
from  Aldich, 105 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ECONOMY  AND  TACT. 

Importance  of  saving  —  The  leaking  reservoir  —  Pactolus  and  poverty  —  The 
good  genius  —  Economy  a  trite  theme  —  A  picture  —  Ralph  Montcalm 


10  CONTENTS. 


described  —  Dialogue  between  Ralph  and  a  dandy  —  Cigar-smoking  dis- 
cussed—Ralph  and  the  fashionable  young  man  — Boarding  at  a  fashion* 
able  house—  Ralph's  friends  and  benevolence  —  Ralph  a  good  example  of 
economy  —  Principles  of  economy  —  Spend  less  than  you  earn  —  Little 
expenses — The  ants  and  the  captive  caterpillar  —  Debt  —  Littleness— 
The  farmer  and  the  student  —  Tact— What  it  is— It  is  necessary  — May 
-•be  cultivated  —  Relation  of  religion  to  economy  and  tact, 129 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HARMONY    OF    CHARACTER. 

Remark  by  the  Abb*  Mennais  — The  harmony  of  nature  illustrative  of  har- 
mony of  character  — Effects  of  excess,  or  defects  in  particular  qualities  — 
The  rich  youth  an  example  of  defect  —  Quotation  from  Shakspeare  — 
Lord  Byron  an  illustration  of  excess  and  defect—  Necessity  of  symmetry 
in  character — An  important  question  —  The  circle  —  Regulus  and  his 
sentiment  concernjng  Roman  honor  —  A  central  principle  like  the  centrip- 
etal force— What  principle  will  produce  symmetry  — Honor  insufficient 
—  Self-respect  defective  —  Example  in  case  of  Professor  Webster  —  Relig- 
ion furnishes  the  principle  —  Its  comprehensiveness — Its  potentiality — 
Young  man  urged  to  seek  it 146 


CHAPTER   IX. 

VICE   AND    ITS   ALLUREMENTS. 

Dante  and  the  three  beasts  —  The  panther  a  symbol  of  voluptuousness  —  The 
lion,  of  ambition — The  wolf,  of  avarice — Successive  dangers  —  Youth  the 
age  of  passion  —  Passion  may  be  an  instrume-  jf  mental  strength — One 
chief  danger  —  Byron  on  vice— The  bloom  g  shrub — Delusive  aspect 
of  vice — The  canary  birds  —  Fascinations-  Dante's  inscription  over  the 
gate  of  hell—  Escape  from  vice  next  to  impossible  —  The  cobra  di  capello 

—  History  a  great  commentary  on  the  power  of  vice  —  Mark  Antony  — 
Robert  Burns— Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan— Vice  enslaves  great  minds 

—  The  only  hope  —The  plea  of  the  novitiate  — The  do.'s  of  Egypt  — A 
little  indulgence  dangerous — Tasso's  knights  in  Armida'j  'sle  —  Invisible 
hooks — The  bird — The  watch  —  Mohammed  and  the  poison  of  Khnibar 

—  Horace  Mann's  thought— Religion  the  effectual  safeguard,  .  ,  .  .162 


CONTENTS.  1 1 

CHAPTER  X. 

VICE   AND    ITS   CONSEQUENCES. 

Patriarchal  life  —  Abraham  and  Lot —  Lot  a;.d  the  vale  of  Sodom  —  His  dis- 
appointment and  ruin  —  The  youth  and  guilty  pleasures  —  Hazael'a  indig- 
nation—  Disappointment  of  profligates  —  Testimony  of  a  veteran  —  Why 
vice  is  pursued  —  Passion  a  tyrant  —  The  drunkard  —  The  quagmire  — 
Mental  slavery  —  Dr.  Morton  —  Extract  from  Byrou  —  George  Wachs  — 
The  sudden  desire  — The  temptation  — The  crime  — Shame  after  a  first 
fall — Ruin  of  the  vicious  a  moral  certainty  —  Swift  destruction  —  Regi- 
nald—  His  character — His  tempters  —  His  fall  —  Scene  in  his  sick  room 

—  His  pastor's  visit  —  Last  words  —  Legions  of  such  youth  —  Ruin  a  Bri- 
areus  —  Rivers  with  many  mouths  —  Arthur's  visit  to  the  city  —  dissipa- 
tion —  the  crime  —  prison  scene  —  the  death  hour  —  Young  man  addressed 
— Ruin  sometimes  delayed  —  Self-confidence  —  The  furious  rider —  Risks 

—  Two  facts  —  Crime  —  How  it  begins  —  The  agonized  mother  —  English 
criminals— Effects  of  vice  on  the  physical  constitution  — A  victim 
described  —  Remorse  —  Viscount  Kenmuir — Oliver  Goldsmith— Spira 

—  Death  —  Judgment  to  come, 182 

CHAPTEE  XI. 

VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS 

The  voices  of  home  —  Vice  renders  a  young  man  deaf  to  these  voices  —  Bad 
books  — Impure  pictures  — their  influence  — Are  all  novels  injurious- 
One  class  of  novels  leads  to  another  —  The  ripple,  the  breakers,  and  tho 
under  current — The  caution  too  late  —  Experience  of  novel-readers — 
Quotation  from  Dante — Novel-readers  cannot  escape  without  some  evil 

—  The  river  and  its  bed  —  Wicked  companions  —  Their  pleasure  to  cor- 
rupt—  Air  and  mind  —  Novices  and  their  seducers  —  The  turning  point 

—  The  bird  and  its  prey  —  Finished  seducers  —  The  gambler  described  — 

—  The  libertine  —  How  he  tempts  —  The  harlot — Fate  of  her  victim  —  The 
sceptic  — His  character —  His  seductions—  Character  of  the  champions 
of  infidelity  — All  the  wicked  to  be  avoided  — Appeal, 210 

CHAPTER   XII. 

COURTSHIP    AND   MARRIAGE. 

The  bairen  rock  and  the  cloud  of  dust—  Forest  trees  and  rivers 
from  small  be^inni™*      w 


1 2  CONTENTS. 


Blindness  to  the  results  of  human  actions  —  Courtshipa  serious  theme  — 
Erroneous  views  of  courtship  —  False  views  of  marriage  —  The  high 
ends  contemplated  in  marriage  —  Right  opinions  necessary  to  avoid 
debasement —  Safety  of  right  views  —  Necessity  of  caution  in  the  choice 
of  a  bride  —  Care  needed  at  the  beginning  —  Accomplishments  no  substi- 
tute for  solid  excellences  —  Hannah  More  —  Qualities  to  be  sought  in  a 
young  woman  —  Frugality — Industry  —  Sobriety  —  Intelligence  and  good 
sense  —  Amiability  —  Pleasing  countenance  —  Moral  influence  of  early 
courtship  —  Affection  necessary  to  honorable  marriage  —  Social  equality 
—  Marriage  for  money  hateful  —  Sceptical  women  to  be  avoided  — No 
haste  to  marry  —  Stability — Wrong  to  violate  promises  of  marriage 
through  fickleness  —  Are  such,  promises  never  to  be  violated  —  Court- 
ing at  night  censured  —  William  Cobbett's  courtship  —  Concluding 
note 230 


THE 


NOTING  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR, 


CHAPTEK  I. 

YOUTHFUL  DAY-DREAMS  DISSOLVED. 

IVE  me  your  hand,  my  dear  young 
friend,  and  I  will  lead  you  to  the 
'dark  passages  and  the  rugged 

steeps   whose   forbidding    shadows 
i 
'  fall  gloomily  on  the  highway  of  life. 

J  will  also  conduct  you  to  the  green 
and  sunny  spots  whereon  you  may  in- 
dulge in  innocent  delights.     Open  your 
heart  to  my  counsels  !    I  will  teach  you 
how  to  escape  the  teeming  dangers,  which, 
like  troops  of  ill-omened  phantoms,  wait  in 
the  "  slippery  places  "  of  youth,  seeking  his 
destruction.     I  will  unfold  to   you  the   secrets   of 


14  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

success  and  of  eminence  in  this  life,  and  the  sure 
means  of  winning  a  crown  of  glory  in  the  next ! 

It  is,  without  doubt,  a  very  joyous  thought  to 
you,  that  you  have  became  a  young  man.  Manhood 
has  long  been  the  fairy  land  of  your  boyhood's  rev 
eries.  Your  full  heart  swells,  as  you  exclaim  : 

"  Time  on  my  brow  hath  set  his  seal ; 
I  start  to  find  myself  a  man." 

Your  spirits  flow  in  rich  currents  of  feeling,  and 
your  lively  imagination  paints  the  most  inviting  pic- 
tures of  the  future.  To  you,  life  is  as  the  lovely  vale 
of  Arno,  with  its  enchanting  scenery  of  groves  and 
gardens,  grottoes,  palaces  and  towers ;  its  transparent 
lakes,  delicious  air,  and  sunny  skies.  You  can  com- 
prehend the  poet,  who  says : 

"  To  sanguine  youth's  enraptured  eye, 
Heaven  has  its  reflex  in  the  sky, 
The  winds  themselves  have  melody, 

Like  harp,  some  seraph  sweepeth ; 
A  silver  decks  the  hawthorn  bloom, 
A  legend  shrines  the  mossy  tomb, 
And  spirits  throng  the  starry  gloom, 
Her  reign  when  midnight  keepeth." 


YOUTHFUL   DAY-DREAMS    DISSOLVED.  15 

It  seems  a  pity  to  dim  so  fair  a  vision.  I  feel  sad, 
as  I  proceed  to  break  the  sweet  enchantment,  and  by 
touching  it  with  the  wand  of  truth,  to  overcast  it 
with  clouds  and  storms.  But  I  should  not  be  a 
faithful  friend,  if  I  did  not  assure  you  that  these  rosy 
anticipations  are  destined  to  be  followed  by  disap- 
pointment. You  must  and  will  learn  the  truthful- 
ness of  the  following  sweetly  solemn  strain  : 

"  Little  we  dream,  when  life  is  new, 
And  nature  fresh  and  fair  to  view, 
When  throbs  the  heart  to  pleasure  true, 

As  if  for  naught  it  wanted  — 
That  year  by  year,  and  ray  by  ray, 
Romance's  sunlight  dies  away, 
And  long  before  the  hair  is  gray 

The  heart  is  disenchanted." 

Let  us  walk  forth  into  the  fields,  and  learn  a  lesson 
from  yonder  husbandman.  He  is  casting  handfuls 
of  seed  broadcast  upon  the  upturned  soil.  A  mo- 
ment's reflection  teaches  you  that  very  much  of  the 
forthcoming  harvest  depends  upon  that  sower  and  his 
seed.  If  he  has  properly  chosen  and  prepared  the 
soil,  —  if  the  seed  be  of  high  quality,  —  if  it  be 


16  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

sown  in  proper  quantity,  and  harrowed  with  all  due 
skill,  the  conditions  of  a  good  and  abundant  harvest 
are  fulfilled,  and  may  be  reasonably  expected.  But 
if  he  has  scantily  sown  poor  seed  in  an  ungenial  and 
neglected  soil,  a  good  harvest  is  out  of  the  question. 
•  The  application  of  this  figure  to  yourself  is  easy. 
You  are  now  a  sower  of  seed  on  the  field  of  life. 
These  bright  days  of  youth  are  the  seed-time. 
Every  thought  of  your  intellect,  every  emotion  of 
your  heart,  every  word  of  your  tongue,  every  princi- 
ple you  adopt,  every  act  you  perform,  is  a  seed, 
whose  good  or  evil  fruit  will  be  the  bliss  or  bane  of 
your  after-time.  As  is  the  seed,  so  will  be  the  crop. 
Indulge  your  appetites,  gratify  your  passions,  neglect 
your  intellect,  foster  wrong  principles,  cherish  habits 
of  idleness,  vulgarity,  dissipation,  and  in  the  after 
years  of  manhood  you  will  reap  a  plentiful  crop  of 
corruption,  shame,  degradation,  and  remorse  ;  and  it 

may  be, 

"  Year  by  year  alone 
Sit  brooding  in  the  ruins  of  a  life, 
Nightmare  of  youth,  the  spectre  of  yourself." 


'. 
YOUTHFUL    DAY-DREAMS    DISSOLVED.,  17 

But  if  you  control  your  appetites,  subdue  your 
passions,  firmly  adopt  and  rigidly  practise  right  prin- 
ciples, form  habits  of  purity,  propriety,  sobriety  and 
diligence,  your  harvest  will  be  one  of  honor,  health 

happiness;  and, 

"  After-time, 

And  that  full  voice  which  circles  round  the  grave, 
Will  rank  you  nobly." 

That  you  have  reached  the  period  of  youth,  is,  / 

\£~ 

therefore,  for  you,  a  very  serious  fact.  "  Great  des- 
tinies lie  shrouded  "  in  your  swiftly  passing  hours. 
Great  responsibilities  stand  in  the  passages  of  every- 
day life.  Great  dangers  lie  hidden  in  the  by-paths 
of  life's  great  highway ;  and  syrens,  whose  song  is 
as  charming  as  the  voice  of  Calypso,  are  there  to 
allure  you  to  destruction.  Great  uncertainty  hangs 
over  your  future  history.  God  has  given  you  exist- 
ence, with  full  power  and  opportunity  to  improve  it, 
and  be  happy.  He  has  given  you  equal  power  to 
despise  the  gift,  and  be  wretched.  Which  you 
will  do,  is  the  grand  problem  to  be  solved  by  your 
choice  and  conduct.  To  you,  so  young,  so  inex- 
2 


18  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

perienced,  so  susceptible  of  evil,  so  capable  of  good, 
so  full  of  stormy  feelings,  so  unsettled  in  opinion,  is 
committed  the  awful  trust  of  your  future  happiness. 
Your  bliss,  or  misery,  in  two  worlds,  hangs  poised  in 
the  balance.  The  manner  in  which  you  spend  your 
youth,  will  turn  the  scale,  for  weal  or  for  woe.  Verily 
it  has  been  well  said,  that  the  season  of  youth  is  a 
critical  period.  Critical,  indeed !  And  I  would,  if 
possible,  engrave  the  thought,  in  ineffaceable  letters, 
on  your  susceptible  heart,  and  make  you  feel  how 
much  the  fashioning  of  your  destiny,  which  hitherto 
has  been  more  in  the  hands  of  others  than  in  your 
own,  is  now  confided  to  your  discretion. 

As  a  boy,  at  home,  you  have  sailed  upon  the  calm 
waters  of  a  quiet  river,  in  a  bark,  carefully  furnished 
by  a  mother's  love,  and  safely  guided  by  a  father's 
skill.  Now,  you  are  sailing  through  the  winding 
channels,  the  rocky  straits,  the  rapid,  rushing  cur- 
rents, at  the  river's  mouth,  into  the  great  sea  of 
active  life.  And  here,  for  the  first  time,  you  are  in 
command  of  the  vessel.  On  your  skill  and  caution 
depends  the  safety  of  the  passage.  Neglect  the  rules 


YOUTHFUL   DAY-DREAMS    DISSOLVED.  19 

laid  down  on  the  chart  of  experience  by  previous 
navigators,  take  passion  for  a  pilot,  place  folly  at 
the  helm,  and  your  bark  will  shortly  lie  a  pitiful 
wreck  on  the  rocks,  or  be  so  damaged  as  to  peril 
your  safety  on  the  coming  voyage.  But  study  well 
the  intricacies  and  dangers  of  your  course,  take 
counsel  of  experience,  let  caution  be  your  pilot,  and, 
without  doubt,  you  will  escape  rock,  current,  eddy 
and  whirlpool,  and,  with  streamered  masts  and  big 
white  sail,  float  gayly  forth  to  dare  and  conquer  the 
perils  of  the  sea  beyond. 

Among  the  fascinating  stories  of  the  Orientals,  is 
one  which  describes  an  enchanted  hill,  whose  sum- 
mit concealed  an  object  of  incomparable  worth.  It 
was  offered  as  a  prize  to  him  who  should  ascend  the 
hill  without  looking  behind  him.  But  whoever  ven- 
tured to  secure  this  treasure  was  told  that,  if  he  did 
look  backwards,  he  should  be  instantly  changed  into 
a  stone.  Many  a  princely  youth,  allured  by  the 
tempting  prize,  had  ventured  up  that  fatal  hill ;  and 
as  many  had  been  changed  to  stones.  For  the  adja- 
cent groves  were  ftlled  with  most  melodious  voices 


20  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

and  with  birds  of  sweetest  song,  whose  bewitching 
strains  and  enticements  followed  each  youth  as  he 
ascended,  until  he  suffered  his  innate  curiosity  to 
control  his  hopes  and  fears  —  turned  his  head,  and 
instantly  became  a  stone.  Hence,  said  the  story,  the 
hill-side  was  covered  with  stones. 

To  every  young  man,  life  is  such  an  enchanted 
hill,  with  its  thousands  of  alluring  voices,  and  its 
unnumbered  victims,  who,  prompted  from  within 
themselves,  have  listened  to  some  fatal  charmer  of 
the  senses,  and  have  perished.  Yet  no  one  of  them 
ever  fell  of  necessity.  Had  they  repressed  the  inward 
desire  of  evil,  by  directing  the  energy  of  their  souls 
after  the  great  prizes  of  religion  and  virtue,  they 
would  have  become  conquerors;  for  outward  things 
have  power  only  in  proportion  to  the  disposition  of 
the  mind  to  be  affected  by  them.  Why,  for  example, 
does  the  sublime  and  beautiful  scenery  of  the  Alps 
awaken  no  emotions  of  beauty  or  sublimity  in  the 
breast  of  the  rude  muleteer,  whose  life  is  spent  in 
traversing  their  passages  ?  And  why  does  that  same 
scenery  hold  the  reflective  and  religious  mind  in  rapt 


YOUTHFUL    DAY-DREAMS    DISSOLVED.  21 

admiration  ?  The  answer  is  simple,  but  significant. 
Between  nature  and  the  muleteer  there  exists  no 
sympathy.  He  is  hardened  against  her.  But  the 
soul  of  the  meditative  and  cultivated  man  is  in  har- 
mony with  her  charms.  Hence,  over  the  former  she 
has  no  power,  while  she  inspires  the  latter  with  rap- 
ture. So  with  the  charms  of  vice ;  they  fall  power- 
less upon  minds  which,  cased  in  the  mail  of  virtue, 
are  proof  against  them  ;  but  they  are  omnipotent  to 
those  whose  undisciplined  passions  are  looking  out 
upon  life  with  prurient  curiosity.  Such  young  men 
are  doomed  to  illustrate  the  fable  of  the  orient,  and 
to  lie  along  the  highways  of  life,  hardened,  undone, 
and  lost. 

The  young  man  cannot;  therefore,  fail  to  see  that 
he  carries  the  most  potent  of  all  sources  of  danger 
in  his  own  breast.  Within  himself,  as  the  malignant 
asp  lay  concealed  in  the  basket  of  flowers  brought  to 
Cleopatra,  lies  his  destroyer.  Unless  you  suffer  your 
own  passions  to  exercise  lordship  over  your  reason 
and  conscience,  you  cannot  be  greatly  harmed.  But 
herein  lies  your  peril,  at  the  present  epoch  of  your 


22  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

life.  Passion  is  strong,  because  Reason  is  weak: 
Desire  eager,  because  it  must  not  be  gratified.  Your 
heart  is  a  volcano  of  feeling,  ever  heaving,  and  seek 
ing,  especially  when  in  presence  of  the  outward 
tempter,  to  overflow  your  life  with  vice  and  abomi- 
nation. There  is  a  disposition  in  your  soul  to  respond 
to  the  fatal  voices  which  solicit  your  senses  to 
trespass  upon  forbidden  grounds.  And  herein  —  I  sol- 
emnly repeat  it  —  lies  your  most  imminent  danger. 

These  views  are  certainly  sufficient  to  dim  the 
lustre  of  those  day-dreams  of  life,  so  natural  and  so 
universal  in  young  men.  Perhaps  you  consider  them 
too  sombre  and  gloomy  in  their  aspects.  You  com- 
plain that  I  have  dipped  my  pen  in  the  too  sober  hues 
of  autumn,  when  I  ought  to  have  written  with  the 
bright  drops  which  sparkle  like  jewels  on  the  gay 
blossoms  and  painted  flowers  of  spring ;  that  1  have 
caused  you  to  despond,  when  I  should  have  stimu- 
lated your  hopes  and  excited  your  courage.  But 
such  is  not  my  intention,  nor  should  aught  I  have 
said  occasion  the  least  despondency ;  it  should  only 
awaken  caution  —  caution,  the  parent  of  safety,  the 


YOUTHFUL   DAY-DREAMS    DISSOLVED.  23 

companion  of  success.  Know  you  not,  that  dangers 
are  not  to  be  overcome  by  blindly  rushing  among 
them  ?  The  wisest  and  best  men  are  they  who,  like 
the  greatest  generals,  take  distinct  cognizance  of 
their  dangers,  and  prepare  with  proper  forecast  to 
overcome  them.  Napoleon,  that  great  master  of  war, 
never  failed  to  calculate  upon,  and  to  provide  before- 
hand for,  every  imaginable  difficulty.  Had  his  lieu- 
tenant, the  unfortunate  General  Dupont,  acted  on  the 
same  principle  in  Spain,  the  defeat  he  suffered  at 
Baylen  would  not  have  tarnished  the  lustre  of  his 
early  fame,  nor  rested  as  a  spot  on  the  military  glory 
of  France.  But  he  failed  of  fully  apprehending  the 
perils  of  his  position ;  was  enveloped  between  two 
armies,  and  ingloriously  defeated.  And  you,  young 
man,  unless  you  view  life  as  it  is,  —  unless  you  sub- 
stitute the  sober  lessons  of  experience  for  the  bril- 
liant fancies  of  imagination, — will  find  your  Baylen, 
where  you  will  lie,  crest-fallen  and  crushed,  between 
the  vices  of  your  own  nature  and  the  evil  influences 
of  vicious  society. 

Up,  then,  with  a  heroic  spirit,  and  gird  yourself  for 


24  YOUNG  MEAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

mortal  conflict  with  the  great  Apollyon  who  bestrides 
your  pathway !  If  he  has  subdued  thousands,  thou- 
sands have  also  subdued  him.  And  you  too  maybe 
his  conqueror  !  Look  courageously  at  the  chart  of 
your  intended  voyage !  If,  by  every  sunken  rock, 
and  beneath  every  dashing  wave,  there  lies  the 
wreck  of  youth  who  perished  untimely,  there  is  also 
a  haven,  beyond  the  sea,  into  which  "  a  thousand 
times  ten  thousand  and  thousands  of  thousands  "  have 
triumphantly  entered,  in  defiance  of  stormy  winds 
and  roaring  waves.  You  may  do  the  same,  if  you 
will  take  timely  heed  to  your  ways.  Success  is 
before  you,  if  you  resolutely  and  wisely  seek  it.  As 
says  a  modern  writer,  "  The  seas  of  human  life  are 
wide.  Wisdom  may  suggest  the  voyage,  but  it  must 
first  look  to  the  condition  of  the  ship,  and  the  nature 
of  the  merchandise  to  exchange.  Not  every  vessel 
that  sails  from  Tarshish  will  bring  back  the  gold  of 
Ophir.  But  shall  it  therefore  rot  in  the  harbor? 
No  !  Give  its  sails  to  the  wind !  " 

And  so  say  I.     Yield  your  young  heart  up  cheer- 
fully to  the  battle  of  life.     Calculate  upon  difficulty  ; 


YOUTHFUL    DAY-DREAMS    DISSOLVED.  25 

but  calculate  also  upon  success ;  —  only  be  sure  you 
do  it  wisely !  To  aid  you  in  this  task,  and  to  point 
out  the  safe  road  to  eminence  on  earth  and  to  glory 
in  heaven,  is  the  object  of  the  succeeding  chapters. 
Follow  my  counsels,  and  in  your  old  age  you  will  be 
like  the  trees  in  Alcinou's  garden,  which  were  covered 
with  blossoms  and  laden  with  fruit  at  the  same  time  ; 
in  eternity,  you  will  flourish  as  a  choice  plant,  in 
the  garden  of  God. 


CHAPTER  n. 

THE  CORNER-STONE  OF  A  SUCCESSFUL  LIFE. 

RICH  man  once  undertook  to 
erect  a  magnificent  mansion. 
With  free  and  lavish  expendi- 
ture, he  raised  its  walls ;  and 
adorned  it,  within  and  without, 
to  suit  his  taste.  When  finished, 
it  was  a  stately  and  majestic  pile  of 
architecture.  But,  before  it  was  ready 
for  occupation,  large  apertures  became 
visible  in  the  walls.  The  floors  and 
ceilings  began  to  sink,  and  it  was  pro- 
nounced unsafe  for  habitation.  The  unwise 
owner  had  been  in  such  unpardonable  haste,  as  to 
neglect  proper  precautions  in  laying  the  founda- 
tion. He  had  built  that  massive  structure  upon  an 
unsound  surface,  instead  of  digging  down  deep  into 
the  ground,  after  the  solid  rock.  There  was  no  rem- 


THE    CORNER-STONE    OF    A    SUCCESSFUL    LIFE.        27 

edy,  but  to  take  it  all  down,  and  begin  anew.  This 
he  was  unable  to  do,  having  already  exhausted  a 
large  proportion  of  his  entire  fortune  in  its  construc- 
tion. He  was  obliged,  therefore,  to  leave  it  to  decay 
and  ruin,  —  to  mourn  at  leisure  over  the  irreparable 
folly  he  was  too  hasty  and  too  thoughtless  to  avoid 
at  the  beginning. 

I  want  the  young  man  to  give  this,  my  simple  par- 
able, an  application  to  his  own  life,  since  he  is  and 
must  be  engaged  in  the  construction  of  a  character  for 
two  worlds.  His  actions  and  motives  are  to  compose 
its  materials.  These,  as  they  accumulate,  will  give 
it  form  and  subsistence.  It  will  be  good  or  evil  — a 
shelter  or  a  curse  —  according  to  their  quality. 
Composed  of  evangelically  virtuous  and  noble  acts, 
it  will  afford  quiet,  honor  and  comfort,  in  this  life ; 
and  in  the  life  to  come,  an  abode  with  the  blessed. 
Composed  of  unprincipled  and  irreligious  conduct,  it 
will  yield  him  unrest,  shame,  disgrace,  in  this  world, 
and  eternal  infamy  in  the  next. 

How  vastly  important,  then,  for  a  young  man  to 
lay  a  foundation  suited  to  the  structure  he  designs 


28  YOUNG    MAN'S    COUNSELLOR. 

to  erect !  It  would  be  the  apex  of  folly  to  think  of 
placing  a  virtuous  superstructure  upon  a  substructure 
of  vice !  I  apprehend  no  sensible  young  man  delib- 
erately resolves  to  build  a  bad  character.  Yet  many, 
who  design  to  be  right  in  the  end,  begin  by  indulg- 
ing in  follies,  which  they  intend  to  repudiate  at 
length.  This  is  building  on  the  sand ;  for  whether 
they  are  aware  of  it  or  not,  the  structure  is  begin- 
ning to  rise,  and  every  day's  actions  add  to  its  dimen- 
sions. Nevertheless,  the  foundation  is  unsound  ! 

Other  young  men,  who  avoid  these  indulgences, 
and  pride  themselves  on  a  spotless  morality,  are, 
notwithstanding  all  this,  also  building  their  characters 
on  the  sand  !  Why  are  they  moral  ?  Because  they 
wish  to  be  respectable  !  Why  do  they  refrain  from 
the  wine-cup,  the  card-table,  the  theatre,  the  house 
of  "  her  whose  feet  take  hold  of  death  "  ?  Because 
they  are  too  proud  to  be  vicious.  Why  are  they  dil- 
igent, studious,  careful  of  their  reputation  ?  Because 
they  are  ambitious  of  success  in  life.  But  what 
stability  or  solidity  is  there  in  pride  or  in  ambition  ? 
Alas  !  they  are  but  as  the  sand  !  The  first  rushing 


THE    CORNER-STONE    OF    A    SUCCESSFUL    LIFE.        L'9 

flood  of  tempting  circumstances  may  wash  them, 
and  the  character  that  stands  upon  them,  to  utter 
destruction ! 

What,  then,  is  the  true  foundation  of  character  ? 
Where  is  that  SOLID  ROCK  which  will  afford  a  firm 
resting-place  for  a  virtuous  life  —  a  sure  support  for 
the  noblest  and  most  exalted  character  ? 

To  this  question,  so  big  with  importance  to  every 
young  man,  I  answer,  in  the  notable  language  of  St. 
Paul,  "  OTHER  FOUNDATION  can  no  man  lay  than  that 
is  laid,  WHICH  is  JESUS  CHRIST  ! "  which  means,  that 
the  corner-stone  of  everything  truly  noble  in  human 
character,  of  everything  really  great  and  honorable 
in  human  life,  is  a  saving  faith  in  Jesus  Christ ! 
Without  this,  his  earthly  well-being  is  a  "  dread 
uncertainty;"  the  "  blackness  of  darkness  "  encircles 
his  grave,  and  clouds  his  prospect  of  immortality. 
But  with  it,  true  to  the  teachings  of  the  Divine 
Redeemer,  he  may  be  sure  of  rising  to  at  least  a 
tolerable  degree  of  social  eminence,  to  moderate 
plenty,  to  honor  and  immortal  life. 

The  temporal  advantages  of  an  early  religious  life 


30  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

are  not  sufficiently  considered  by  most  young  men. 
They  blindly  conclude  that  success  in  this  life  is  the 
exclusive  heritage  of  the  worldling ;  that  devotion  to 
God  is  the  surrender  of  present  advantages,  and  the 
price  of  eternal  salvation.  Never  was  any  suppo- 
sition more  false.  It  is  contrary  to  both  experience 
and  Scripture.  True,  in  the  infancy  of  Christ's 
religion,  and  in  seasons  of  persecution,  the  martyred 
confessor  mounted  his  triumphal  chariot,  from  the 
flames  of  his  pyre,  and  won  his  crown  of  life  by  sac- 
rificing all  terrestrial  things.  But  you,  young  man, 
live  in  a  land  whose  institutions  are  moulded,  and 
whose  inhabitants  are  influenced,  to  a  great  extent, 
by  the  teachings  of  Jesus.  Hence,  you  may  safely 
calculate  upon  realizing  the  apostolic  maxim,  that 
"  Godliness  is  profitable  FOR  ALL  THINGS,  having  the 
promise  of  the  LIFE  THAT  NOW  is,  and  of  that  which  is 
to  come"  You  may  reasonably  expect  that,  if  you 
"  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteous- 
nesSj  all  these  (worldly)  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you." 

The  benefits  of  a  pious  life  are  beautifully  exhib- 


THE    CORNER-STONE    OF    A    SUCCESSFUL    LIFE.      31 

ited  in  the  third  chapter  of  Proverbs.  There,  religion 
is  strikingly  personified  as  a  lovely  woman  standing 
at  the  portals  of  life's  great  highway,  and  greeting 
each  joyous  youth,  as  he  enters,  with  charming 
words  and  alluring  gifts.  As  he  eagerly  inquires 
after  happiness,  she  exclaims,  "  Happy  is  the  man  that 
findeth  wisdom,  (religion,)  and  the  man  that  gcttcth 
understanding. " 

But  the  youth  sees  the  glitter  of  gold,  the  spark- 
ling of  jewels,  and  the  profits  of  merchandise,  in 
tempting  heaps,  before  him.  His  heart  swells  with 
nameless  desires  after  the,  as  yet  unknown,  pleas- 
ures of  sense,  and  he  hesitates. to  submit  to  his  beau- 
tiful teacher.  To  decide  his  unsettled  mind,  she 
adds :  "  The  merchandise  of  it  (religion)  is  letter 
than  the  merchandise  of  silver,  and  the  gain  thereof 
than  fine  gold.  She  is  more  precious  than  rubies  ; 
and  ALL  THE  THINGS  THOU  CANST  DESIRE  are  not  to  be 
compared  unto  her  !  " 

This  is  promising  much ;  but  the  eye  of  the  youth 
lingers  still  on  the  sensuous  and  gaudy  offerings  of 
Sense  and  Mammon.  His  charmer,  therefore,  pro- 


32  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

ceeds  to  say,  "  Length  of  days  is  in  her  right  hand  ; 
and  in  her  left  hand,  RICHES  AND  HONOR  !  Her  ways 
are  ways  of  pleasantness  ;  and  all  her  paths  are  peace!  " 
Here  are  included  health,  long  life,  prosperity, 
eminence  among  men,  tranquillity,  and  quietude  of 
conscience,  as  the  results  of  beginning  life  aright' 
and,  as  if  to  meet  the  last  wish  of  the  most  aspiring 
soul,  she  crowns  this  pyramid  of  blessings  with  a 
wreath  from  Paradise,  exclaiming  that,  "  She  is  a 
tree  of  life  to  them  that  lay  hold  upon  her ; "  b} 
which  is  implied,  that  the  blessed  gifts  of  religion, 
in  this  world,  are  to  be  succeeded  by  a  life  of  unend- 
ing glory,  in  the  next.  Could  more  than  this  be 
offered  ?  Nay,  there  is  nothing  left  to  be  desired. 
Only  surrender  your  heart  to  the  sway  of  piety,  — 
approach  your  Creator,  and  entreat  him  to  bind  you 
to  religion,  with  the  soft  bands  of  that  love  which 
"  many  waters  cannot  quench,"  —  and  you  may  view 
this  world  with  that  confidence  which  cries,  "  The 
Lord  is  my  shepherd  ;  I  shall  not  want ;  "  and  the 
next,  with  that  hope,  which  triumphantly  exclaims, 
"  Tf  tJie  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  be  dissolved, 


THE    CORNER-STONE    OF    A    SUCCESSFUL    LIFE.      33 

we  have  a  building,  not  made  with  hands,  eternal, 
and  in  the  heavens." 

I  do  not  affirm  that  a  religious  life  is  the  only  road 
to  temporal  prosperity  and  social  superiority.  Riches, 
honor,  power,  and  long  life,  are  often  gained  by  men 
who  are  "  an  abomination  in  the  sight  of  God." 
Superior  genius  will,  of  itself,  win  popular  admira- 
tion, and  command  civic  or  political  honors.  Bril- 
liant business  talents  will  make  their  possessor  a 
desirable  and  prosperous  man.  A  strong  physical 
constitution  is  favorable  to  longevity.  And  even 
duplicity,  knavery,  or  overreaching  in  trade,  may  fill 
a  man's  coffers  with  unholy  gain.  Often,  indeed,  do 
the  morally  vile,  the  enemies  of  Christ,  climb  to  the 
high  places  of  earth.  But  their  gain  is  their  portion. 
Their  advantage  is  apparent,  and  not  real.  Beneath 
a  gay  and  attractive  exterior,  they  carry  a  sad  and 
heavy  heart.  To  real  contentment,  to  inward  tran- 
quillity, to  genuine  happiness,  every  godless  man  is 
an  utter  stranger,  however  high  or  brilliant  may  be 
his  worldly  position.  What  irreligious  worldling, 
however  proud  his  success,  ever,  in  a  candid  moment. 


34  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

made  a  profession  of  happiness,  since  the  days  of 
Cain  ?  Not  one !  On  the  other  hand,  multitudes  of 
the  world's  most  honored  and  applauded  heroes  have 
groaned  forth  the  lamentable  cry,  "  Our  misery  is 
greater  than  we  can  endure ! "  amidst  profusions  of 
honors,  riches,  offices,  and  plaudits.  Kings,  princes, 
senators,  philosophers,  merchants,  warriors,  and  ora- 
tors, without  number,  when  at  the  height  of  their 
ambition,  have  signed  the  declaration  of  that  wise 
monarch,  who  said  of  this  world,  "  Vanity  of  vani- 
ties, aU  is  vanity ! "  Let  me  show  you  the  hearts  of 
some  of  these,  as  they  are  revealed  in  their  own 
recorded  confessions. 

VOLTAIRE,  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  the  sons  of 
genius,  whose  friendship  was  courted  by  powerful 
kings,  and  whom  the  people  delighted  to  honor, 
speaking  of  life,  said,  "  Life  is  thickly  sown  with 
thorns ;  and  I  know  of  no  other  remedy  than  to  pass 
quickly  through  them." 

LORD  CHESTERFIELD,  a  British  nobleman,  a  man 
who  made  pleasure  his  chief  pursuit,  rich  in  titles, 
lands,  wit,  learning,  and  opportunity,  after  comparing 


THE    CORNER-STONE    OF   A   SUCCESSFUL    LIFE.      35 

life  to  a  dull,  tasteless,  and  insipid  journey,  said, 
"  As  for  myself,  my  course  is  already  more  than  half 
passed  over,  and  I  mean  to  sleep  in  the  coach  the 
rest  of  the  journey." 

BYRON,  that  highly  gifted  but  deeply  sinning  child 
of  the  Muses,  describes  human  life  in  the  following 
sorrowful  lines  : 

"  Alas  !  it  is  delusion  all ; 

The  future  cheats  us  from  afar, 
Nor  can  we  be  what  we  recall, 
Nor  dare  we  think  on  what  we  are." 

To  these  melancholy  confessions  we  might  add 
those  of  Nelson,  Talleyrand,  Randolph,  and  a  host 
beside,  who,  in  similar  language,  have  given  unequiv- 
ocal testimony  to  the  absolute  impossibility  of  com- 
oining  genuine  enjoyment  with  a  merely  worldly  life. 
And  where  is  the  young  man  who  can  envy  the  liter- 
ary glory  of  Voltaire,  the  fashionable  preeminence  of 
Chesterfield,  or  the  blazing  lustre  of  Byron's  genius, 
while  he  beholds  the  first  so  tortured  with  the  thorns 
of  life,  the  second  so  horrified  with  its  ennui,  the 
third  so  tormented  with  remorse  and  fear,  that  a 


36  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

hasty  flight,  a  blind  forgetfulness,  or  a  reckless  leap 
into  the  great  deep  of  consequences,  is  their  highest 
consolation?  Alas!  how  pitiful,  how  inexpressibly 
mournful,  the  sight,  to  see  minds  immortal  so  tor- 
mented, and  so  hopelessly  wretched ! 

How  beautiful  is  the  contrast  between  the  gloom 
of  these  brilliant  worldlings  and  the  lofty  cheerfulness 
of  the  great  Christian  apostle !  He  ranked  not,  like 
them,  with  the  lordly,  the  great,  the  royal ;  but  was 
accounted  as  the  "  the  filth  and  off  scour  ing  of  all 
things"  His  persecutions  and  sufferings  rained  on 
his  head,  and  raged  around  his  steps,  in  incomparable 
fury.  Yet,  there  he  stood,  firmly  and  calmly,  amidst 
the  foaming  of  the  storm,  his  feet  resting  on  the  solid 
rock  of  Christ's  promise,  his  eyes  fastened  on  the  love 
and  mercy  of  God,  which,  brighter  and  lovelier  than 
the  rainbow,  spanned  the  heavens ;  his  heart  beating 
with  the  glad  pulsations  of  immortal  life,  and  his 
tongue  giving  utterance  to  the  sublimest  language  of 
confidence,  exclaiming,  "  Our  light  affliction,  which 
is  but  for  a  moment,  workethfor  us  afar  more  exceed- 
ing and  eternal  weight  of  glory !  "  Tell  me,  young 


THE    CORNER-STONE    OF    A    SUCCESSFUL    LIFE.       37 

man,  if  this  noble  bearing,  this  Divine  triumph,  under 
the  sorest  of  present  ills,  is  not  of  more  value  than 
all  the  pleasures  of  sense,  the  pomp  of  power,  or  the 
luxuries  of  wealth !  How  infinitely  preferable,  there- 
fore, must  be  a  life  consecrated  to  religion,  in  its 
prime,  to  a  life  of  even  profitable  sin !  To  every 
innocent  gratification  that  earth  can  give  to  the 
senses,  religion  joins  a  sweet  repose  of  spirit,  which 
must  be  ever  unknown  to  those  whose  souls  are  not 
in  harmony  with  their  Creator.  For,  as  the  ABBE 
MENNAIS  has  beautifully  said,  "  While  a  sinful  life 
engenders  suffering,  and  a  sorrow  is  always  hidden 
at  the  bottom  of  a  forbidden  joy,  —  calmness,  on  the 
contrary,  serenity,  unvarying  contentment,  are  the 
lot  of  a  pure  conscience.  It  resembles  the  sparrow, 
sweetly  reposing  in  its  nest,  while  the  tempest  abroad 
bends  and  breaks  the  tops  of  the  forest." 

Who  has  not  heard  of  those  triumphs  of  art  and 
labor,  by  which  the  waters  of  the  Croton  and  of 
Cochituate  lake  are  made  to  flow,  in  iron  arteries, 
through  the  streets,  and  into  the  very  chambers  of 
the  citizens  of  two  great  American  cities  ?  Let  us 


38  VOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

suppose  that  these  waters,  by  some  mysterious  change, 
become  insipid,  and  even  poisonous.  Confusion, 
disappointment,  and  even  intense  suffering,  are  the 
immediate  results.  Amidst  the  universal  dismay  of 
such  a  misfortune,  two  men  appear  before  the  City 
Councils,  with  specifics  for  the  healing  of  the  waters. 

"  I,"  affirms  the  first,  "  have  a  powder,  a  pinch 
of  which  will  heal  a  gallon  of  the  water,  and  render 
it  sweet  as  before." 

The  city  fathers  look  joyfully  at  each  other. 
Water  is  brought.  The  powder  is  infused  with  eager 
haste ;  each  official  sips  a  drop  or  two,  and  pro- 
nounces it  delicious.  The  powder  is  equal  to  the 
claims  of  the  inventor.  Eulogy  is  exhausted  in  its 
praise.  They  inquire  the  price  of  this  great  discov- 
ery; and  are  about  to  conclude  a  contract  for  its 
purchase,  when  the  second  man  steps  up,  saying : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  have  a  specific,  which,  cast  into 
the  springs  of  the  lake  or  the  river,  will  heal  the 
whole  forever ! " 

The  city  fathers  are  incredulous  at  first.  But  the 
man  is  earnest,  and  evidently  sincere.  He  demands 


THE    CORNER-STONE    OF    A    SUCCESSFUL    LIFE.      39 

a  bond  for  an  immense  price,  to  be  paid  if  he  fulfils 
his  promise.  Otherwise,  he  asks  nothing.  Now,  if 
these  city  fathers  were  wise,  with  which  of  these  men, 
think  you,  they  would  conclude  a  contract  ?  Judge 
for  them,  young  man,  if  they  ought  not,  at  almost 
any  cost,  to  purchase  the  specific  which  would  entirely 
remove  the  evil  at  once  ! 

Need  I  make  an  application  of  this  illustration  ? 
Can  you  not  already  perceive  its  force,  and  feel  its 
bearing  on  yourself?  Know  you  not  that  the  heart, 
originally  pure  as  the  springs  of  Paradise,  has  become 
radically  unclean  ?  —  that  its  natural  streams  flow 
forth  in  bitterness  exceeding  the  taste  of  aloes ;  and 
in  pollution  more  vile  than  the  spumy  waves  of  a 
turbid  sea?  Hence,  it  follows  that  life  becomes  a 
"  heritage  of  woe."  To  escape  from  this  woe,  every 
young  immortal  looks  out  of  himself  for  help.  Be- 
fore him  stands  the  genius  of  this  world,  inviting  to 
the  "lust  of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  to  the 
pride  of  life"  There,  also,  is  the  radiant  form  of 
Religion,  inviting  him  to  the  cross  of  Christ,  to  virtue, 
and  to  heaven.  The  former  dares  not  promise  more 


40  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

than  occasional  hours  of  delight ;  and  makes  no  pre- 
tence to  heal  the  springs  of  misery,  which  are  ever 
sending  their  streams  of  sorrow  through  the  life. 
The  latter,  like  Elisha  standing  with  his  cruse  of 
salt  at  the  waters  of  Jericho,  boldly  promises  to  heal 
those  springs,  and  to  convert  the  heart  into  a  living 
fountain  of  tranquil  joy,  capable  of  yielding  sweet 
satisfaction  under  every  variety  of  outward  circum- 
stance. 

Say,  then,  young  man,  which  is  the  choice  of  wis- 
dom ?  As  a  mere  question  of  advantage  during  the 
present  life,  ought  you  not  to  lay  a  foundation  of 
evangelical  piety  ?  I  appeal  to  the  tribunal  of  your 
reason.  I  demand  the  verdict  of  your  intellect.  To 
enforce  that,  I  implore  the  authority  of  your  con- 
science. With  your  reason  and  conscience  on  the 
side  of  religion,  I  beg  you  to  yield  a  submissive  will ! 
And,  hearken !  A  higher  voice  than  mine  supports 
this  appeal !  From  Him  whom  "  the  heaven  of 
keave?is  cannot  contain"  a  sound,  "  still,  small,'  bu» 
thrilling,  steals  into  every  young  man's  heart,  saying, 


THE    CORNER-STONE    OF    A   SUCCESSFUL   LIFE.        41 
"  WlLT  THOU  NOT,  FROM  THIS  TIME,  CRY  UNTO    ME,  My 

FATHER,  THOU  ART  THE  GUIDE  OF  MY  YOUTH  ! " 

Take  heed  how  you  despise  this  appeal  of  your 
Creator !  Look  at  your  life,  in  its  relations  to  him, 
and  to  eternity !  Contemplate  your  destinies  from 
that  "  height  which  no  duration  limits, — where  Hope 
spreads  in  immensity  her  indefatigable  wings, — 
where  you  can  feel  within  yourself  a  secret  force, 
which  bears  you  above  all  time,  as  a  light  body  rises 
from  the  depth  of  the  sea.  From  this  height,  look 
into  this  narrow  valley,  where  the  first  term  of  your 
existence  is  to  be  accomplished."  And  thus,  with 
both  worlds  before  you,  come  to  the  great  decision  to 
lay  your  foundation  ^urely  and  steadfastly  on  Him 
who  is  the  "  Rock  of  ages." 

To  be  successful  in  life,  to  rise  above  the  common 
herd  of  mankind,  a  young  man  requires  certain  ele- 
ments of  character  ;  —  all  of  which  are  attainable 
through  the  power  of  religion,  and  many  of  which 
most  young  men  never  will  attain  without  that  power. 
He  must  possess  INTEGRITY,  that  he  may  win  public 
confidence ;  INTELLIGENCE,  that  he  may  command  re- 


42  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

spect ;  INDUSTRY,  that  he  may  collect  honey  from  the 
flowers  of  trade  ;  ECONOMY  and  frugality,  to  preserve 
his  gains  ;  ENERGY,  by  which  to  surmount  obstacles  ; 
and  TACT,  to  enable  him  to  adapt  himself  to  the 
openings  of  Providence,  and  to  make  him  the  man 
for  the  hour  of  opportunity.  These  qualifications  are, 
to  success  in  life,  as  foundations  of  jasper  to  a  royal 
palace.  Whoever  possesses  them  cannot  be  an  infe- 
rior man.  To  that  man  who  retains  them,  life  cannot 
be  a  failure.  Nay,  he  must  rise  to  social  superiority  ; 
he  must  win  a  commanding  influence.  And,  hear 
me,  young  man  !  These  elements  of  success  are  all 
attainable,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  by  every  youth 
who  will  cordially  embrace,  and  faithfully  adhere  to, 
the  religion  of  Christ ;  as  I  will  endeavor  to  prove,  in 
the  succeeding  chapters. 


CHAPTEB  III. 

CNTEGRITY  NECESSARY  TO  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE. 

NTEGRITY  signifies  incorrupti- 
bility, soundness  of  heart,  upright- 
ness. A  man  of  integrity  is  always 
loyal  to  his  sense  of  right.  His 
•adhesion  to  the  principles  of  recti- 
tude is  so  strong,  that  nothing  can 
break  it.  No  motive  is  sufficiently 
)werful  to  move  him  from  the  straight 
line  of  duty.  Money  cannot  purchase 
>his  consent  to  a  wrong  action.  Pleasure 
cannot  entice  him  from  the  ways  of  justice. 
The  pleadings  of  love,  the  yearnings  of  friendship,  the 
threatenings  of  enmity,  are  alike  powerless  to  move 
his  steady  soul  from  its  purpose  to  abide  faithful  to 
its  convictions.  To  the  wicked  in  high  places,  who 
would  natter  him  to  turn  aside  from  truth,  for  the 


44  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

sake  of  their  favor,  he  indignantly  responds,  "  Shall 
I  sell  my  principles  for  human  praise  ?  —  for  that 

"  '  Wild  wreath  of  air, 
That  flake  of  rainbow,  flying  on  the  highest 
Foam  of  men's  deeds  ?'  " 

Ever  true  to  his  principles,  his  actions  and  his 
duties  are  as  — 

"  Consonant  chords  that  shiver  to  one  note." 

If  duty  calls  him  to  rise  up  singly  in  defence  of 
truth,  like  Noah  preaching  to  a  world  of  sinners,  he 
stands,  in  the  noblest  sublimity  of  moral  character, 

"  Like  a  Druid  rock, 
Or  like  a  spire  of  land,  that  stands  apart, 
Cleft  from  the  main." 

If  exposed  to  the  wrath  and  violence  of  ungodly 
men,  —  if  the  enemies  of  right  raise  threatening  tem- 
pests about  his  head,  —  if  they  pour  forth  floods  of 
enmity  to  wash  him  from  his  high  moral  position,  — 
he  remains  unmoved  and  unawed  at  his  chosen  post : 

"  Standing  like  a  stately  pine, 
Set  in  a  cataract  on  an  island  crag, 
When  storm  is  on  the  heights,  and  right  and  left, 
Sucked  from  the  dark  heart  of  the  long  hills,  roll 
The  torrents  dashed  to  the  vale." 


INTEGRITY   NECESSARY    TO    SUCCESS    IN    LIFE.       45 

The  reply  of  Kossuth,  the  renowned  hero  of  Hun- 
gary, furnishes  a  beautiful  illustration  of  this  virtue. 
He  had  escaped  the  pursuit  of  the  triumphant  Cos- 
sacks, and  sought  protection  at  the  hands  of  the  Sul- 
tan of  Turkey.  Safety,  wealth,  military  command, 
were  cheerfully  offered  to  him  by  the  Sultan,  provided 
he  would  renounce  the  Christian  religion,  and  em- 
brace the  doctrines  of  Mohammed.  To  refuse  this 
condition  would,  for  aught  he  knew  to  the  contrary, 
be  equivalent  to  throwing  himself  upon  the  sword  of 
Russia,  which  was  whetted  for  his  destruction.  But, 
with  death  frowning  in  his  face,  the  heroic  Kossuth 
nobly  exclaimed,  "  Welcome,  if  need  be,  the  axe  or 
the  gibbet ;  but  curses  on  the  tongue  that  dares  to 
make  to  me  so  infamous  a  proposal !  " 

In  this  fact,  you  see  both  the  nature  and  the  moral 
sublimity  of  integrity.  The  soul  of  Kossuth,  long 
trained  to  a  love  of  truth  and  right,  revolted,  with 
indignation,  from  the  bare  idea  of  purchasing  his  life 
by  the  sacrifice  of  his  conscience.  To  die  loyal  to  his 
sense  of  duty,  however  cruel  the  mode  of  his  death, 
he  regarded  as  infinitely  preferable  to  life,  honors, 


46  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

and  wealth,  with  a  violated  conscience.  This  is 
integrity. 

An  equally  striking  example  is  furnished,  in  the 
conduct  of  Ulric  Zwingle,  the  illustrious  master  spirit 
of  the  Swiss  Reformation.  The  Pope  had  given 
Zwingle  a  small  pension,  and  his  legate  was  endeav- 
oring to  combat  certain  scruples  which  the  nascent 
reformer  indulged  on  the  question  of  retaining  it. 
The  spirit  of  reform  was  beginning  to  stir  within  him, 
and  a  dim  presentiment  of  his  ultimate  duty  to  attack 
the  Papacy  was  slowly  rising  in  his  soul.  Hence, 
he  wished  to  be  released  from  all  ties  which  would 
hinder  the  freedom  of  his  great  mind.  But  the  papal 
legate  insisted,  and  Zwingle  consented  to  retain  it  a 
while  longer,  but  added  these  notable  words : 

"  Do  not  think  that  for  any  money  I  will  suppress 
a  single  syllable  of  the  truth  ! " 

Noble  Zwingle !  Glorious  loyalty  to  the  sense  of 
duty,  which  not  all  the  wealth  of  the  Vatican  can 
induce  to  surrender  even  a  syllable  of  truth  !  Young 
man,  this,  too,  is  integrity ! 

At  the  risk  of  being  too  profuse  in  my  illustrations 


INTEGRITY    NECESSARY    TO    SUCCESS    IN    LIFE.      47 

of  this  point,  I  will  introduce  yet  another,  and,  per- 
haps, more  striking  exhibition  of  this  essential  virtue. 

The  interest  of  the  circumstances,  and  the  hope 
that  the  moral  beauty  they  disclose  may  strengthen 
the  young  man's  allegiance  to  right,  shall  be  my 
apology. 

The  government  of  Scotland  had,  for  generations, 
claimed  a  jurisdiction  over  the  pulpits  of  the  Scottish 
Church,  which  the  latter  could  not  conscientiously 
yield.  A  recent  enforcement  of  this  ancient  claim, 
in  a  particular  church,  followed  by  abortive  efforts  to 
secure  a  reform,  led  several  of  its  most  celebrated 
ministers  to  a  determination  to  quit  the  assembly, 
resign  their  churches,  and  organize  a  free  church, 
independent  of  all  state  control.  The  execution  of 
this  purpose  involved  the  sacrifice  of  their  livings, 
manses,  and  means  of  support.  It  would  leave  many 
of  them  poor,  houseless,  and  dependent  on  the  Prov- 
idence of  God  alone  for  support.  The  adherents  of 
the  state  sneered  at  this  resolve,  and  said  there  was 
no  fear  that  many  of  them  would  make  such  a  sacri- 
fice for  a  mere  scruple  of  conscience.  The  18th  of 


48  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

May,  1843,  however,  proved  to  Scotland  and  to  the 
world  that  the  spirit  of  the  ancient  Scottish  Cove- 
nanter yet  lived  in  the  heart  of  her  modern  sons. 
Let  us  view  the  scene  as  it  transpired  on  that  memo 
rable  day,  in  the  city  of  Edinburgh. 

The  gray  old  towers  of  Holyrood  are  alive  with 
the  hustle  and  grandeur  of  reflected  royalty.  The 
narrow  streets  are  crowded  with  dense  masses, 
through  which  the  gorgeous  procession  of  the 
queen's  commissioner  can  scarcely  force  its  way  to 
the  cathedral  church  of  St.  Giles.  The  levee  and 
sermon  past,  the  royal  commissioner  proceeds  to  St. 
Andrew's,  to  meet  the  General  Assembly.  Amidst 
the  anxious  beatings  of  many  hearts,  the  house  is 
called  to  order. 

Prayer  is  next  offered,  and  is  followed  by  a  brief, 
deep  silence.  Then,  the  polished  and  classic  Welsh, 
who  is  moderator,  "  his  pure  and  glowing  spirit  shin- 
ing through  his  fragile  body,  like  a  lamp  through  a 
vase  of  alabaster,"  rises  to  his  seat.  With  a  firm, 
unfaltering  voice,  he  utters  a  noble  protest  against 
the  proceedings  of  the  state.  Then,  laying  his  pro- 


INTEGRITY    NECESSARY   TO    SUCCESS    IN    LIFE.       49 

test  on  the  table,  and  bowing  to  the  commissioner, 
he  walks  toward  the  eastern  door.  This  move- 
ment raises  the  interest  of  the  assembly  to  its  high- 
est pitch ;  for,  who  could  say  how  many  would  abide 
true  to  principle  and  right,  in  that  stern  hour  of  trial  ? 
Who  will  follow  the  dauntless  Welsh  ?  First,  the 
white-haired  Chalmers,  with  his  "  massive  frame  and 
lion  port,  springs  to  his  side."  Another  and  another 
of  Scotland's  most  distinguished  clergy  follow  him, 
until  the  pride  and  flower  of  the  church  swell 
the  gathering  stream.  As  they  pour  out  of  the 
church,  "a  long-drawn  sobbing  sigh,  a  suppressed 
cheer  of  admiration  and  sympathy,  sweeps  round 
the  church,"  from  the  spectators,  who  gaze  in  solemn 
wonder  at  the  sight.  Dismay  and  astonishment 
mark  the  countenances  of  the  royal  commissioner, 
and  the  adherents  of  the  crown. 

Outside  of  the  church  the  excitement  is  still  more 
intense.  Vast  masses  have  waited  there,  for  hours, 
to  see  if  the  spirit  of  the  old  Covenanter  yet  lived 
in  Scotland.  "  When  will  they  come  ?  "  has  been 

asked  a  thousand  times. 

4 


50  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

"  They  will  not  come ! "  has  been  as  often  an- 
swered back  by  those  who  had  no  faith  in  the  power 
of  principle. 

"  They  will  come  ! "  has  been  the  response  ,of  the 
old  Covenanter  soul. 

At  length,  a  door  opens,  —  a  cry  of  "  Here  they 
come ! "  announces  to  the  multitude,  and  to  the 
world,  that  the  Evangelical  Church  of  Scotland  is 
free  !  Instantly,  the  whole  mass  of  people  is  in 
motion.  Hats  and  handkerchiefs  are  waved  aloft, 
and  "  a  shout,  not  loud,  but  deep  and  earnest,  —  a 
shout,  the  voice  of  the  heart  rather  than  of  the  lip, 
bursts  from  the  countless  thousands "  who  throng 
street,  door,  window,  and  even  house-top.  The  long 
agony  is  over.  The  church  is  safe.  Strong  men, 
who  had  faced  the  roar  of  battle  unmoved,  are  un- 
strung, and  the  big  tears  gush  from  their  eyes,  as 
they  murmur,  "Thank  God,  Scotland  is  free!" 
"  Four  hundred  of  Scotland's  best  ministers,  and  as 
many  elders,  march  through  that  yielding  crowd  to 
Tanfield  Hall,  which  is  crowded  to  the  roof  by  eager 
spectators.  There,  the  tremulous  voice  of  Welsh  leads 


INTEGRITY   NECESSARY   TO    SUCCESS    IN    LIFE.      51 

in  prayer,  and  the  long  pent  up  feelings  of  the  assem- 
bly burst  forth  in  irrepressible  sobs,  and  tears  of 
mingled  sorrow  and  gladness.  Then,  that  multitude 
stands  up,  and  from  "  four  thousand  voices  there 
ascend  the  high  and  mournful  strains  of  the  old 
Hebrew  faith  and  fearlessness." 

"  God  is  our  refuge  and  our  strength, 

In  straits  a  present  aid  ; 
Therefore,  although  the  earth  remove, 
We  will  not  be  afraid." 

The  towers  of  the  Cannon  mills  shake  with  the 
thunder  of  their  melody  ;  and  every  heart  is  nerved 
with  holy  fervor  to  lay  down  all  for  the  cross  and 
crown  of  Christ.^ 

The  moral  grandeur  of  this  scene  is,  at  least,  equal 
to  any  recorded  facts  in  the  history  of  man!  It 
exhibits  the  moral  beauty  of  integrity.  The  scene 
owes  all  its  sublimity  to  the  fact  that  those  heroic 
ministers  were  sufficiently  loyal  to  their  sense  of 
right  and  duty  to  prefer  the  loss  of  all  things  to  its 
violation.  And,  young  man,  this  is  the  integrity  I 

*  See  Hetherington's  History  of  the  Church  of  Scotland. 


52  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

wish  you  to  attain,  as  a  prime  element  of  success  in 
life. 

One  of  the  first  effects  of  integrity  is  to  secure  to 
its  possessor  the  confidence  of  society.  To  have  the 
confidence  of  others,  is  to  have  influence  over  them , 
for  men  readily  yield  themselves  to  the  guidance  of 
those  in  whom  they  confide.  Hence,  a  reputation 
for  lofty  integrity  is  a  better  capital  than  gold ;  —  it 
is  more  persuasive  than  eloquence ;  —  it  is  more 
powerful  than  the  sword.  A  remarkable  example  of 
its  influence  is  furnished  in  the  rivalry  of  Robespierre 
and  Mirabeau,  during  the  first  epochs  of  the  French 
Revolution. 

No  two  men,  perhaps,  ever  presented  greater  con- 
trasts of  person,  ability,  and  character,  than  these 
politicians.  Mirabeau  was  of  patrician  blood ; 
Robespierre,  an  obscure  plebeian.  Mirabeau  had  the 
eye  of  an  eagle,  the  port  of  a  lion,  the  energy  of  a 
whirlwind,  a  voice  of  thunder,  an  eloquence  which 
stirred  men's  souls,  commanded  the  assent  of  his 
friends,  and  terrified  his  adversaries.  Robespierre's 
eyes  flashed  no  fire,  his  manner  was  feeble  and 


INTEGRITY   NECESSARY    TO    SUCCESS    IN    LIFE.      53 

uncouth,  his  voice  weak  and  broken,  his  oratory 
was  contemptible,  and  usually  passionless.  Between 
such  men,  one  would  think,  there  could  be  no  rivalry  ; 
for,  how  could  Robespierre,  vain  as  he  was,  dare  to 
compete  for  influence  with  Mirabeau  ?  But  he  did 
dare  ;  and  that,  too,  with  success,  as  will  appear  by 
the  following  scene,  which  took  place  in  the  celebrated 
Revolutionary  Club  of  the  Jacobins,  where  hitherto 
Mirabeau  had  reigned  supreme. 

Robespierre  was  speaking,  one  night,  in  the  club, 
against  a  decree,  which,  through  Mirabeau's  influ- 
ence, had  that  day  passed  the  National  Assembly. 
Though  cold  and  passionless  in  his  manner,  he, 
nevertheless,  brought  such  severe  logic  to  bear 
against  the  principles  of  the  decree,  that  the  club 
greeted  him  with  thunders  of  applause.  Mirabeau 
is  alarmed.  He  sits  uneasy  in  his  presidential  chair , 
and  at  length  calls  Robespierre  to  order,  saying,  "  No 
one  must  speak  against  a  decree  already  passed  by 
the  Assembly !  " 

This,  the  club  will  not  endure.  Loud  shouts  for 
Robespierre  to  proceed  resound  through  the  hall. 


54  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

Mirabeau  mounts  his  chair,  and  affirming  that  the 
attack  on  the  decree  was  intended  to  cover  an  assault 
upon  himself,  appeals  to  his  friends,  crying,  "  Help, 
colleagues !  Let  all  my  friends  surround  me !  " 

This  was  manifestly  an  appeal  to  his  influence 
over  the  club.  A  few  months  before,  it  would  have 
brought  a  rampart  of  some  six  hundred  human  breasts 
around  him.  But  that  night,  only  thirty  responded 
to  his  call !  It  was  obvious  that  his  influence  had 
passed  over  to  Robespierre. 

What  was  the  secret  of  this  change?  Let  the 
young  man  note  it  carefully.  Mirabeau  had  accepted 
royal  gold ;  —  his  political  integrity  had  become  sus- 
pected ;  —  and  all  his  high  qualifications  were  grow- 
ing impotent.  Robespierre, — cold,  selfish,  calculat- 
ing, repulsive,  as  he  was,  —  had  contrived  to  acquire  a 
reputation  for  incorruptibility.  Men  believed  that  no 
price  could  purchase  his  allegiance  to  republican  prin- 
ciples ;  hence,  they  freely  surrendered  themselves  up 
to  his  influence,  until  they  placed  him  at  the  head 
of  that  fearful  and  barbarous  revolution;  proving 


INTEGRITY   NECESSARY   TO    SUCCESS    IN    LIFE.       55 

that,   even   among   unprincipled   men,   there    is    a 
respect  for  integrity  which  moulds  and  leads  them. 

Let  me  exhort  you,  therefore,  young  man,  to  cul- 
tivate the  loftiest  integrity,  even  in  connection  with 
the  smallest  matters.  Are  you  a  clerk  ?  See  to  it 
that  your  minutest  entries  are  strictly  correct.  That 
you  never  appropriate  one  cent  of  your  employer's 
money  or  property  to  your  own  uses.  Deal  with 
honorable  exactness  toward  all  who  trade  at  your 
store  or  counting-room.  Eschew  all  bwiness  lies,  in 
selling  goods.  If,  in  measuring  or  weighing  an  arti- 
cle, you  discern  defects  which  lessen  its  value,  boldly 
make  them  known.  Do  not  permit  a  dishonest  em- 
ployer to  compel  you  to  be  his  instrument,  —  his  tool 
for  doing  wrong.  Let  him  distinctly  understand  that 
you  do  not  hesitate  between  dishonor  and  dismissal. 
Prove,  if  need  be,  by  the  loss  of  your  situation,  that 
you  prefer  an  honest  crust  to  a  dishonest  banquet. 
If  you  are  a  mechanic,  a  farmer,  or  an  artist,  prose- 
cute your  daily  tasks  with  the  same  careful  diligence, 
in  the  absence,  as  in  the  presence,  of  your  employer ; 
thus  proving  that  you  are  "  no  eye-servant"  no  mere 


56  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

"  man-pleaser"  but  a  conscientious  and  dignified 
young  man ;  doing  right,  not  for  reputation's  sake, 
but  because  you  love  it,  and  from  a  sense  of  obliga- 
tion to  Almighty  God. 

It  is  by  small  things  that  you  are  to  acquire  a  habit 
of  integrity.  The  disposition  of  mankind  is  to  de- 
spise the  little  incidents  of  every-day  life.  This  is 
a  lamentable  mistake ;  since  nothing  in  this  life  is 
really  small.  Every  event  is  "  great,  for  good  or  for 
evil ;  because  of  the  unfathomable  mysteries  that  lie 
shrouded  in  the  growth  on  earth  of  an  immortal  soul." 
It  is  only  by  exercising  your  principles  in  the  daily 
tests  of  ordinary  life  that  you  can  acquire  power  to 
stand  in  an  extraordinary  and  truly  difficult  position. 
It  was  only  by  habitual  fidelity  to  his  sense  of  duty, 
that  Luther  or  Zwingle  acquired  strength  to  withstand 
the  flattering  solicitations  of  the  Pope.  None  but  a 
mind  trained,  through  daily  tests,  to  an  instinctive 
choice  of  right,  could,  like  Kossuth,  so  promptly  and 
unhesitatingly  accept  the  gibbet  or  axe  as  the  price 
of  integrity.  Any  other  mind  would  have  paused, 
hesitated,  employed  mental  casuistry,  and  looked,  at 


INTEGRITY   NECESSARY   TO    SUCCESS    IN    LIFE.      57 

least,  after  some  excuse  for  yielding  a  principle  and 
saving  life.  But  Kossuth's  mind  settled  the  question 
as  soon  as  it  was  stated ;  and  thus  showed  itself  loyal, 
from  long  habit,  to  virtue  and  to  truth.  Be  faithful, 
therefore,  in  that  which  is  least ;  thereby  acquiring  the 
power  to  be  faithful  in  that  which  is  great,  should 
you  ever  be  called  to  such  a  trial  of  your  principles. 

Let  us  enter  yonder  counting-room.  A  clerk  is 
busy  at  the  writing-desk.  The  merchant  sits  convers- 
ing at  the  table  with  a  brother  merchant.  The  porter 
calls  the  clerk  from  the  counting-room.  As  the  door 
closes,  the  visiting  merchant  inquires  of  his  friend, 

"  Is  that  your  chief  clerk,  Mr.  Grey  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir.  He  is  at  the  head  of  my  establish- 
ment," replies  the  merchant. 

"  Indeed  !  Are  you  not  afraid  to  intrust  so  young 
a  man  with  so  high  a  responsibility  ? " 

Mr.  Grey  smiles,  and  answers, 

'» No,  sir.  That  young  man  has  my  most  implicit 
confidence.  He  has  been  with  me  from  his  boyhood. 
I  have  never  known  him  to  betray  a  single  trust. 
He  identifies  his  interests  with  mine.  He  abhors  the 


58  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

idea  of  mercantile  dishonesty  in  every  aspect ;  and 
I  would  intrust  him  with  uncounted  gold." 

"  You  are  fortunate  to  have  such  a  clerk.  Depend 
upon  it,  there  are  few  such  in  our  city,"  replies  the 
merchant's  friend,  as,  deeply  musing,  he  retires  from 
the  counting-room.  The  conversation  has  strongly 
impressed  his  mind.  He  conducts  an  extensive 
business ;  and,  being  somewhat  advanced  in  life,  is 
desirous  of  finding  a  young  partner.  The  high 
commendation  of  Mr.  Grey's  clerk  has  fixed  his 
attention.  He  resolves  to  observe  him,  and,  at  a 
suitable  opportunity,  if  satisfied,  secure  his  services. 
The  result  is,  that  the  young  clerk  becomes  first  his 
partner,  and  subsequently  the  owner  of  the  business ; 
thus  securing  profit  and  advancement,  as  the  reward 
of  his  integrity. 

Now,  I  do  not  say  that  every  young  man  of 
sound  principles  will  be  equally  fortunate ;  because 
capacity,  address,  and  other  elements,  must  be  com- 
bined, to  insure  such  marked  and  signal  elevation. 
Yet,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  affirm,  that  every  young 
man  who  resembles  that  clerk  in  his  uprightness  of 


INTEGRITY   NECESSARY    TO   SUCCESS   IN    LIFE.       59 

character  may  be  sure  of  rising  to  a  loftier  height  in 
his  profession,  and  to  more  enduring  fortune,  than 
if  his  principles  are  loose,  and  his  fidelity  open  to 
suspicion. 

In  some  of  the  European  states,  scientific  men 
have  recommended  the  insertion  of  lightning-rods  in 
quarries,  for  the  purpose  of  attracting  the  electric 
fluid  during  a  thunder-storm,  and  thereby  blasting 
the  rock.  The  relation  of  those  rods  to  the  splitting 
of  a  stone  fitly  illustrates  the  influence  of  dishonesty, 
trickery  in  trade,  or  over-reaching  in  any  form,  upon 
the  fame  and  fortune  of  the  clerk,  or  merchant,  who 
condescends  to  its  practice.  Every  such  violation  of 
the  laws  of  right  serves  as  a  conductor  to  the  retrib- 
utive providences  of  the  Creator,  which,  sooner  or 
later,  shiver  the  fabric  built  up  by  fraud  into  frag- 
ments. The  late  Gideon  Lee,  a  celebrated  Ameri- 
can merchant,  and  an  honest  man,  was  accustomed 
to  remark,  that,  though  "a  man  may  obtain  a  tempo- 
rary advantage  by  selling  an  article  for  more  than  it 
is  worth,  yet  the  effect  must  recoil  upon  himself,  in 
the  shape  of  bad  debts  and  increased  risk."  The 


60  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

following  fact,  in  his  history,  is  given  to  illustrate 
his  opinion : 

A  merchant  boasted,  one  day,  in  Mr.  Lee's  office, 
of  having  gained  a  great  advantage  over  a  neighbor  ; 
and  then,  with  the  utmost  barefacedness,  added, 
"To-day,  I  have  obtained  an  advantage  over  you, 
too,  Mr.  Lee !  " 

"  Well !  "  replied  the  honest  man,  "  that  may  be ; 
but,  if  you  will  promise  never  to  enter  my  office 
again,  I  will  give  you  that  bundle  of  goat-skins." 

The  unprincipled  trader  was  so  devoid  of  all  self 
respect,  that  he  made  the  promise,  took  the  skins, 
and  for  fifteen  years  did  not  cross  Mr.  Lee's  thresh- 
old. At  the  expiration  of  that  period,  however,  he 
walked  into  his  office.  Mr.  Lee  instantly  recognized 
him,  and  said :  "  You  have  violated  your  word ;  pay 
me  for  the  goat-skins !  " 

"O!"  replied  the  man,  in  sorrowful  tones,  "1 
have  been  very  unfortunate  since  I  saw  you,  and  am 
quite  poor." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man  of  probity ;  "  and  you  will 


INTEGRITY   NECESSARY   TO   SUCCESS   IN    LIFE.       61 

always  be  so;  that  miserable  desire  to  overreach 
others  must  keep  you  so."  * 

Thus,  you  may  see  that  the  providence  of  God  has 
joined  ultimate  adversity  to  all  violations  of  the  law 
of  justice,  just  as  he  has  united  honor  and  well-being 
with  integrity.  The  motive,  therefore,  is  two-fold, 
—  one  of  fear,  and  another  of  attraction.  Honor, 
advancement,  well-being,  with  their  rich  emolu- 
ments, stand  inviting  you  to  the  ways  of  right ;  while 
disgrace,  debasement  and  ruin,  stand  frowning  in  the 
paths  of  deceit  and  dishonesty.  God  himself  speaks 
to  you,  saying :  "  The  house  of  the  wicked  shall  be 
overthrown  ;  but  the  tabernacle  of  the  UPRIGHT  shall 
flourish." 

You.  are  doubtless  convinced  of  the  beauty,  the 
benefit,  the  desirableness,  of  this  vital  element  of 
genuine  success  in  life.  Perhaps,  you  have  inwardly 
resolved  to  cultivate  it.  Animated  by  the  examples, 
pleased  with  the  beauty,  attracted  by  the  benefits,  of 
integrity,  you  have  already  said,  in  your  heart :  "1 
will  diligently  cultivate  this  sublime  virtue !  With 

*  Quoted  in  Hunt's  Merchants'  Magazine. 


62  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

Kossuth,  Zwingle,  and  those  noble  Scotsmen,  I  will 
hold  my  integrity  dearer  than  money,  honor,  or 
life ! " 

This  is  a  noble  resolve ;  but  how  will  you  keep  it  ? 
Whence,  amid  the  contagion  of  evil  example,  the 
lure  of  the  apparent  rewards  of  deceit,  and  the  insa- 
tiable desires  of  your  own  fiery  heart,  —  which  will 
soon  be  as  eager,  in  the  strife  for  fame  and  fortune, 
as  Hotspur  in  the  battle-field,  —  whence  will  you 
gain  strength  to  resist  all  these  temptations?  By 
what  aids  do  you  intend  to  remain  conqueror  on  a 
field  where  millions  have  fallen?  Consider  well  the 
question  of  Jesus,  who  asks,  "  What  king,  going  to 
make  war  against  another  king,  sitteth  not  down  first 
and  consulteth  whether  he  be  able  with  ten  thousand, 
to  meet  him  that  cometh  against  him  with  twenty 
thousand  ?  "  So  you,  counting  the  difficulties  sur- 
rounding a  young  combatant  after  an  upright  repu 
tation,  should  seriously  ask  —  "Have  I  strength  to 
overcome  these  obstacles  ? " 

Now,  I  will  not  deny  the  obvious  fact,  that  a  few 
persons  have  won  a  high  mercantile  reputation  with- 


INTEGRITY    NECESSARY    TO    SUCCESS    IN    LIFE.      63 

out  the  aid  of  experimental  religion.  Pride  of  birth, 
of  character,  of  education,  a  strong  instinctive  admi- 
ration of  mercantile  justice,  freedom  from  the  pres- 
sure of  strong  solicitation,  with  other  causes,  may 
have  sustained  them  under  their  circumstances  ;  but 
I  contend  that  no  young  man  can  rationally  hope  to 
pass  the  ordeals  of  life  in  safety,  unless  his  outward 
virtues  derive  vitality  and  vigor  from  an  inward  relig- 
ous  life.  To  be  perennial,  the  stream  must  proceed 
from  a  living  spring;  to  be  fruitful,  the  tree  must 
spread  its  roots  in  a  congenial  soil :  so,  to  insure  the 
possession  of  uprightness  through  the  manifold  trials 
of  human  life,  the  soul  of  a  man  must  be  in  harmony 
with  its  Creator,  —  through  faith  in  Him,  it  must 
derive  strength  to  resist  wrong,  to  desire  and  to  will 
right,  when  standing  in  the  plunging  torrent  of  evil 
influences  which  is  ever  dashing  down  the  highways 
of  trade.  Greatly  good  men  are  always  "  like  solitary 
towers  in  the  city  of  God ;  and  secret  passages,  run- 
ning deep  beneath  external  nature,  give  their  thoughts 
intercourse  with  higher  intelligences,  which  strength- 
ens and  controls  them ; "  and  this  secret  intercourse 


64  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

with  God  is  necessary  for  you,  if  to  be  greatly  good 
is  your  aim  and  purpose. 

Religion  never  fails  to  make  its  possessor  a  man  of 
integrity.  Its  primary  idea  is  a  surrender  of  the  man, 
soul  and  body,  to  God  and  to  his  teachings.  A  delib- 
erate casting  off  of  any  one  moral  principle,  known 
to  be  a  Divine  precept,  is  an  act  of  apostasy  from 
religion.  It  is  a  disavowal  of  the  previous  act  of 
surrender,  a  violation  of  the  sacred  covenant.  Hence, 
religion  and  integrity  are  as  inseparable  as  a  cause 
and  its  sequence.  To  embrace  the  former,  is,  of  ne- 
cessity, to  secure  the  latter.  To  yield  fully  to  the 
indwelling  Spirit,  who  chooses  the  religious  heart  for 
his  temple,  is  to  be  in  a  state  where  the  loftiest  and 
sublimest  integrity  is  "spontaneous  and  inevitable, 
the  outward  blossoming  and  fmitfulness  of  a  heav- 
enly life.  It  is  like  the  skylark's  hymn,  the  violet's 
fragrance,  the  breath  of  the  sweet  south,  the  morn- 
ing star's  sweet  effulgence.  The  soul  obeys  the 
desires  of  her  Divine  Lord  with  the  ineffable  delight, 
tenderness  and  constancy,  of  the  bride."  * 

*  Rev.  T.  L.  Hams. 


INTEGRITY    NECESSARY    TO    SUCCESS    IN    LIFE.       65 

Religion  should,  therefore,  be  your  first  object  of 
pursuit,  if  you  desire  to  wear  the  ornament  of  an 
upright  character.  Place  yourself  in  the  hands  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Yield  your  spirit,  as  an  instrument 
of  power,  to  the  touch  of  his  fingers,  and  suffer  him 
to  call  forth  its  delightful  harmonies.  Let  his  power 
be  your  dependence  ;  his  grace  your  strength.  Thus 
will  your  moral  sense  be  keen,  clear,  sensitive;  your 
moral  power,  equal  to  the  most  powerful  tests ;  your 
integrity,  of  the  purest  character ;  and  your  success 
in  life  greatly  promoted. 


CHAPTEE  IY. 

INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE 

THINK  it  is  the  Germans  who 
have  a  pretty  legend,  of  a  gentle- 
man for  whom  some  enamored 
fairy  wrought  a  precious  talisman, 
-which  had  the  power  to  attract  all 
persons  who  came  near  the  wearer 
to  himself.  The  charm  wrought  pow- 
*erfully  on  the  companions  of  the  for- 
tunate nobleman;  and  he  was  loved 
with  wondrous  affection  by  a  large  circle 
of  admiring  friends. 
If  such  a  talisman  were  attainable,  at  the  cost  of 
much  labor,  suffering,  and  even  of  danger,  many  a 
young  man  would  seek  it  with  incredible  industry. 
His  imagination  would  be  charmed  by  the  idea.  He 
would  be  ready  to  attempt  the  ascent  of  the  Andes, 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    67 

or  the  exploration  of  the  dreary  realms  of  the  Ice 
King,  around  the  poles. 

But  when  that  same  young  man  is  told  that,  unless 
neutralized  by  moral  deficiencies,  knowledge  is  really 
a  precious  talisman,  commanding  the  respect  and 
influencing  the  opinions  and  conduct  of  all  minds 
within  his  sphere  of  action,  —  elevating  its  possessor 
to  influence,  to  honor,  and,  possibly,  to  fortune,  — 
he  turns  away  with  apathy,  perhaps  with  scorn. 
He  disdains  mental  toil.  However  physically  indus- 
trious he  may  be,  he  is  intellectually  too  lazy  to 
read,  reflect,  and  study.  Books  are  the  objects  of 
his  fixed  dislike.  He  would  be  delighted  to  wield  a 
commanding  influence,  to  make  a  deep  mark  in  the 
world ;  but,  he  is  too  slothful,  too  sensuous,  to  prose- 
cute the  studies,  which,  by  expanding,  strengthening, 
and  developing  the  intellect,  lead  to  high  achieve- 
ments and  eminence.  He  prefers  to  waste  his  leisure 
hours  in  idle  lounging,  in  frivolous  amusement,  in 
unprofitable  companionships.  What  is  the  conse- 
quence ?  It  requires  no  prophetic  afflatus  to  predict 


68  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

that  such  a  young  man  will  spend  his  days  in  com- 
parative obscurity,  —  that  on  his 

"  Grassy  grave 

The  men  of  future  times  will  careless  tread, 
And  read  his  name  upon  the  sculptured  stone  ; 
Nor  will  the  sound,  familiar  to  their  ears, 
Recall  his  vanished  memory." 

The  mind  is  the  glory  of  the  man.  The  power 
of  the  countenance  to  attract  depends  more  on  the 
thoughtfulness  of  the  soul  than  upon  its  conformity 
to  the  laws  of  beauty.  The  utmost  elegance  of 
physical  formation,  the  most  lovely  and  delicately 
chiselled  features,  unless  accompanied  by  high  intel- 
lectual expression,  cease  to  please,  after  they  become 
familiar;  while  "  dignity  robes  the  man  who  is 
filled  with  a  lofty  thought,"  notwithstanding  the 
symmetry  of  his  features  may  be  imperfect,  and  the 
proportions  of  his  form  unequal.  And,  seeing  how 
much  of  success  in  life  often  depends  upon  outward 
impressions,  it  is  important  to  a  young  man  to  robe 
himself  in  the  attractive  dignity  of  thought. 

Next  to  moral  worth,  no  possession  is  so  productive 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    69 

of  real  influence  as  a  highly  cultivated  intellect. 
Wealth,  birth,  and  official  station,  may,  and  do,  secure 
to  their  possessors  an  external,  superficial  courtesy ; 
but  they  never  did,  and  they  never  can,  command 
the  reverence  of  the  heart.  Fear  of  being  injured 
by  power,  and  hope  of  being  benefited  by  wealth, 
induce  men  to  offer  the  incense  of  servility  at  the 
shrines  of  Mammon.  But  it  is  only  to  the  man  of 
large  and  noble  soul,  to  him  who  blends  a  cultivated 
mind  with  an  upright  heart,  that  men  yield  the 
tribute  of  deep  and  genuine  respect.  Mental  supe- 
riority has  often  commanded  the  friendship  of  courts 
and  kings.  It  has  elevated  the  plebeian  above  the 
patrician.  What  star  ever  shone  with  purer  light, 
or  commanded  more  admiration,  in  the  brilliant  court 
of  France,  than  the  plain,  republican,  but  cultivated, 
Benjamin  Franklin  ?  Who  ever  rose  to  higher  influ- 
ence in  the  political  circles  of  proud  England  than 
Cromwell,  Eldon,  Burke,  Canning,  and  Brougham? 
To  what  did  they  owe  their  vast  influence,  but  to 
great  intellectual  power,  developed  by  slow  and  toil- 
some cultivation  ?  Is  the  young  man  ambitious  of 


70  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

high  success  in  life  ?  Does  he  aspire  to  rival  great 
names  ?  Then,  let  him  diligently  cultivate  his  intel- 
lect. 

Yonder,  on  the  calm,  moonlit  sea,  gliding  in 
solemn  majesty  over  the  unruffled  waters,  is  a  splen- 
did ship.  Among  the  dark  forms  upon  her  deck, 
may  be  discerned  a  pale-faced  boy,  some  sixteen 
summers  old.  He  is  leaning  over  the  bulwarks, 
absorbed  in  a  dreamy  reverie.  His  imagination  is 
traversing  the  future  of  his  career.  Filled  with  the 
gay  illusions  of  hope,  he  peoples  the  years  to  come 
with  images  of  success.  He  beholds  himself  rising 
from  post  to  post,  in  his  dangerous  profession,  until 
he  fancies  himself  the  commander  of  a  great  fleet. 
He  wins  brilliant  victories;  wealth,  honors,  fame, 
surround  him.  He  is  a  great  man.  His  name  is  in 
the  mouth  of  the  world.  There  is  a  circle  of  glory 
round  his  brow.  Filled  with  the  idea,  he  starts ! 
His  young  heart  heaving  with  great  purposes,  his 
eyes  gleaming  with  the  fire  of  his  enkindled  soul, 
his  slender  form  expanding  to  its  utmost  height,  and 
his  lips  moving  with  energy, — he  paces  the  silent 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    71 

deck,  exclaiming,  "  I  will  be  a  hero ;  and,  confiding 
in  Providence,  I  will  brave  every  danger !  " 

Such  was  the  romantic  dream  of  young  Horatio 
Nelson ;  afterwards,  the  hero  of  the  Nile,  the  victor 
of  Trafalgar,  and  the  greatest  naval  commander  in 
the  world !  And  what  young  man  has  not  had 
imaginings  equally  romantic  ?  Where  is  the  poor 
sailor-boy  who  has  not  dreamed  of  glory  and  great- 
ness? What  young  law  student  has  not  seen  in 
himself  a  future  Littleton,  Coke,  or  Story  ?  Where 
is  the  printer's  apprentice  who  has  not  intended  to 
be  a  Franklin  V  What  young  mechanic  has  not,  in 
fancy,  written  his  name  beside  the  names  of  Ark- 
wright,  Fulton,  or  Rumford?  What  boyish  artist 
has  not,  in  imagination,  rivalled  Raphael  or  Michael 
Angelo  ?  What  youthful  orator  has  not  gathered  the 
glory  of  Burke,  Chatham,  or  Patrick  Henry,  around 
his  own  name  ?  Nay !  There  never  was  a  young 
man,  of  any  advantages,  who  did  not  rise  to  eminent 
success,  in  his  hours  of  reverie.  For,  youth  is  the 
period  of  dreams,  in  which  Queen  Mab,  with  her 
fairy  crew,  holds  undisputed  reign  over  the  imagina 


72  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

tion,  and  revels  at  will  in  the  hall  of  fancy,  in  the 
palace  of  the  soul. 

But  why,  since  all  dream  of  greatness,  do  so  few 
attain  it  ?  Why  stand  Nelson,  Story,  Fulton,  Burke, 
&c.,  alone,  in  the  realization  of  their  imaginings, 
among  ten  thousand  of  their  peers,  whose  early 
dreams  were  as  bright  and  as  vivid  as  their  own  ? 
Why  do  so  few  young  men  distinguish  themselves, 
out  of  the  many  whose  hopes,  purposes  and  resolves, 
are  as  radiant  as  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  ? 

The  answer  is  obvious.  Young  men  are  not  will- 
ing to  devote  themselves  to  that  process  of  slow,  toil- 
some self-culture,  which  is  the  price  of  great  success. 
Could  they  soar  to  eminence  on  the  lazy  wings  of 
genius,  the  world  would  be  filled  with  great  men. 
But  this  can  never  be ;  for,  whatever  aptitude  for 
particular  pursuits  Nature  may  donate  to  her  favorite 
children,  she  conducts  none  but  the  laborious  and  the 
studious  to  distinction.  Cicero  and  Demosthenes, 
those  unrivalled  orators  of  antiquity,  were  diligent 
students.  Sir  William  Jones,  the  greatest  of  orienta 
scholars  ;  Newton,  the  first  of  philosophers ;  Burke 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    73 

the  chief  of  modern  orators ;  Michael  Angelo,  the 
model  of  artists ;  Haydn  and  Handel,  those  peerless 
masters  of  the  musical  art;  John  Quincy  Adams, 
the  diplomatist  and  statesman;  all  mounted  the 
throne  of  their  fame  step  by  step.  Their  glory 
gathered  around  them  hy  degrees.  Each  added  ray 
was  the  result  of  intense  application.  It  was  not 
genius,  so  much  as  GENIUS  SEDULOUSLY  CULTIVATED, 
that  enabled  them  to  write  their  names  so  high  on 
the  pillar  of  fame.  Great  men  have  ever  been  men 
of  thought,  as  well  as  men  of  action.  As  the  mag- 
nificent river,  rolling  in  the  pride  of  its  mighty 
waters,  owes  its  greatness  to  the  hidden  springs  of 
the  mountain  nook,  so  does  the  wide-sweeping  influ- 
ence of  Jistinguished  men  date  its  origin  from  hours 
of  privacy,  resolutely  employed  in  efforts  after  self- 
development.  The  invisible  spring  of  self-culture  is 
the  source  of  every  great  achievement. 

Away,  then,  young  man,  with  all  dreams  of  superi- 
ority unless  you  are  determined  to  dig  after  knowl- 
edge, as  men  search  for  concealed  gold !  If  you 
lack  the  resolution,  the  manly  strength  of  purpose, 


74  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

needed  to  bind  you  to  reading,  reflection,  and  study, 
you  may  bid  adieu  to  all  hope  of  marked  success. 
Your  destiny  is  settled.  You  will  dwell  in  ignoble 
nothingness,  far  down  the  vale  of  obscurity.  Your 
name  will  be  "  writ  in  water." 

Yet,  why  need  you  surrender  all  your  cherished 
hopes  of  distinction  ?  The  assured  fact  that  the  great 
mass  of  the  young  men  of  your  age  will  spend  their 
youth  in  frivolity  and  self-neglect,  gives  the  individ- 
ual who  is  determined  to  be  a  fully  developed  man 
the  greater  certainty  of  rising  above  his  peers. 
Resolve,  therefore,  to  act  a  part  worthy  of  that  intel- 
lect with  which  God  has  endowed  you !  Dare  to 
contend  for  the  palm  of  superiority ! 

Success  is  certain,  if  you  do  your  best;  as  says  an 
eccentric  writer,  "  Show  me  the  man  who  has  made 
the  most  of  his  faculties,  and  I  will  show  you  a 
being  sublimated  to  the  height  of  the  angelic  nature.' 
This  is  strongly  expressed ;  but  it  nevertheless  con- 
tains a  great  truth.  Every  man  has  in  himself  the 
seminal  principle  of  great  excellency.  The  reader 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    75 

has  it ;  and  he  may  develop  it  by  cultivation,  if  he 
will  TRY. 

Perhaps  you  are  what  the  world  calls  poor.  What 
of  that  ?  Most  of  the  men  whose  names  are  as 
household  words  were  also  the  children  of  poverty. 
Captain  Cook,  the  circumnavigator  of  the  globe,  was 
born  in  a  mud  hut,  and  started  in  life  as  a  cabin- 
boy.  Nelson,  England's  greatest  admiral,  was  only  a 
coxswain  in  his  youth.  Lord  Eldon,  who  sat  on  the 
woolsack,  in  the  British  Parliament,  for  nearly  half 
a  century,  was  the  son  of  a  coal-merchant.  Frank- 
lin, the  philosopher,  diplomatist,  and  statesman,  was 
but  a  poor  printer's  boy,  whose  highest  luxury,  at  one 
time,  was  only  a  penny  roll,  eaten  in  the  streets  of 
Philadelphia.  Ferguson,  the  profound  philosopher, 
was  the  son  of  a  half-starved  weaver.  Heyne,  the 
renowned  German  scholiast,  was  born  in  a  poor 
peasant's  cot.  Burns, -the  bard  of  Scotland,  ate  the 
coarse  bread  of  labor.  The  lamented  Kirke  White, 
the  youthful  poet,  was  the  son  of  a  butcher.  White- 
field,  the  most  renowned  of  pulpit  orators,  was  the 
son  of  a  tavern-keeper.  John  Wesley,  the  greatest 


76  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

ecclesiastical  legislator  of  his  age,  was  the  son  of  a 
poor  village  vicar,  whose  scanty  income  scarce  sus- 
tained his  numerous  children.  Johnson,  Goldsmith, 
Coleridge,  Keats,  Crabbe,  all  knew  the  pressure  of 
limited  circumstances.  Yet,  they  made  themselves  a 
name.  They,  with  many  others,  have  demonstrated 
that  limited  means,  or  poverty  even,  is  no  insuperable 
obstacle  to  success.  Their  history  shows  that  the 
most  stupendous  difficulties  may  be  defied  and  con- 
quered by  steadily  and  perseveringly  cultivating  the 
mind ;  and  thus  fitting  it  beforehand  for  the  openings 
of  Divine  Providence.  Poesy  never  sang  more  truly 
than  in  the  following  beautiful  lines  of  Longfellow, 
in  his  "Psalm  of  Life:  " 

"  Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us 
.    We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 
And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 
Footprints  on  the  sands  of  time  ; 

"  Footprints  that,  perhaps,  another, 
Sailing  o'er  life's  solemn  main, 
A  forlorn  and  shipwrecked  brother, 
Seeing,  may  take  heart  again." 

Up,  then,  young  man,  and  gird  yourself  for  the 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    77 

work  of  self-cultivation !  Set  a  high  price  on  your 
leisure  moments.  They  are  sands  of  precious  gold. 
Properly  expended,  they  will  procure  for  you  a  stock 
of  great  thoughts,  —  thoughts  that  will  fill,  stir, 
invigorate,  and  expand  your  soul.  Seize  also  on  the 
unparalleled  aids  furnished  by  steam  and  type,  in  this 
unequalled  age.  The  great  thoughts  of  great  men  are 
now  to  be  procured  at  prices  almost  nominal.  There- 
fore, you  can  easily  collect  a  library  of  choice  authors. 
Public  lectures  are  also  abundant  in  our  large  cities. 
Attend  the  best  of  them,  and  carefully  treasure  up 
their  richest  ideas.  But,  above  all,  learn  to  reflect 
even  more  than  you  read.  Reading  is  to  the  mind 
what  eating  is  to  the  body;  and  reflection  is  similar 
to  digestion.  To  eat,  without  giving  nature  time  to 
assimilate  the  food  to  herself  by  the  slower  process 
of  digestion,  is  to  deprive  her,  first,  of  health,  and 
then,  of  life ;  so,  to  cram  the  intellect  by  reading, 
without  due  reflection,  is  to  weaken  and  paralyze  the 
mind.  He  who  reads  thus  has  "  his  perceptions  daz- 
zled and  confused  by  the  multitude  of  images  pre- 
sented to  them.  And  this,  because  he  has  not  the 


78  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

faculty  of  pausing  at  every  point  of  interest;  of 
weighing,  searching,  and  questioning ;  of  arbitrating 
between  truth  and  the  author ;  of  improving  hints, 
and  verifying  conclusions.  Without  thought,  books 
are  the  sepulchres  of  the  soul.  They  not  only  im- 
mure it,  but,  like  thieves  in  the  candle,  while  they 
obscure  its  light,  they  consume  the  bodily  substance, 
and  so  hasten  its  dissolution."  ^  But,  let  thought 
and  reading  go  hand  in  hand,  and  the  intellect  will 
rapidly  increase  in  strength  and  in  gifts.  Its  pos- 
sessor will  rise  in  character,  in  potentiality,  in  posi- 
tive influence.  His  success,  his  moral  qualities 
being  equal,  will  be  assured. 

But  here  I  have  reached  a  point  of  the  highest 
importance  to  every  young  man.  And  that  point  is, 
the  necessity  of  religion  to  give  right  direction  to 
the  cultivated  intellect.  Mental  power  alone  is  not 
a  guaranty  of  innocent  and  virtuous  superiority.  A 
life  of  study  gave  the  philosophic  Bacon  power  and 
renown ;  but  the  absence  of  religious  principle  left 
him  to  disgraceful  deeds,  which  will  dim  the  lustre 

*  Self-formation. 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    79 

of  his  fame  forever.  Men  will  honor  his  intellect, 
but  despise  his  heart.  So  of  Lord  Byron,  Rousseau, 
Voltaire,  and  others.  Education  is  as  a  mighty 
steam-engine  to  a  ship,  —  it  gives  her  power ;  —  skil- 
fully regulated,  it  enables  her  to  mount  the  loftiest 
wave,  and  wage  successful  war  with  the  fiercest 
storm ;  directed  by  violence  and  hate,  it  makes  her 
powerful  to  destroy ;  submitted  to  ignorance,  it  car- 
ries her  to  destruction  on  the  rock,  or  rends  her  to 
fragments  in  mid  air.  Thus,  education,  controlled 
by  rectitude,  is  powerful  for  good  ;  swayed  by  deprav- 
ity, it  spreads  destruction  over  society,  and  destroys 
its  possessor.  Tennyson  thus  beautifully  paints  an 
educated  mind  unsanctified  by  the  spirit  of  God. 
He  calls  it 

"A  sinful  soul,  possessed  of  many  gifts  ; 
A  spacious  garden,  full  of  flowering  weeds  ; 
A  glorious  devil,  large  in  heart  and  brain, 
That  did  love  beauty  only,  (beauty  seen 
In  all  varieties  of  mould  and  mind,} 
And  knowledge  for  its  beauty ;  or,  if  good, 
Only  for  its  beauty." 

Permit  me  to  conduct  you  to  an  English  village 


80  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

as  it  appeared  some  two  hundred  years  ago.  As 
your  eye  wanders  among  its  ancient  cottages,  with 
huge  gable  ends  and  roofs  of  thatched  straw,  let  it 
rest  upon  a  group  of  young  men,  surrounding  one 
whose  mean  dress  and  bag  of  tools  proclaim  him  to 
belong  to  the  humble  fraternity  of  travelling  tinkers. 
He  is  the  chief  speaker ;  and  his  conversation  is 
remarkable  only  for  its  extravagant  profanity.  With 
a  vulgar  air,  and  a  boisterous  manner,  he  rolls  out  a 
filthy  stream  of  oaths  from  the  fountain  of  a  deeply 
polluted  spirit.  Suddenly,  however,  his  vile  speech 
is  arrested  by  the  presence  of  a  low,  forbidding  crea- 
ture. An  old,  wrinkled  crone,  with  little,  twinkling 
eyes,  a  cracked  voice,  and  a  hand  resting  on  each 
hip,  pushes  her  way  through  the  group,  and,  gazing 
earnestly  in  the  blasphemer's  face,  exclaims, 

"  You  curse  and  swear  at  such  an  ungodly  rate, 
that  I  tremble  to  hear  you !  You  are  the  ungodliest 
person  for  swearing  I  ever  heard  in  my  whole  life ! " 

The  young  sinner  stands  amazed  and  stricken 
under  this  rebuke  ;  for,  the  reprover  is-  herself  noto- 
rious for  vulgarity  and  cursing.  Deep,  big  thoughts 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    81 

rush  through  his  startled  soul;  he  inwardly,  but 
sternly,  resolves  to  be  a  better  man.  That  day's 
events  form  an  epoch  in  his  life.  Ere  long,  it 
becomes  known  that  the  swearing  tinker  is  trans- 
formed into  the  exemplary  Christian.  Soon,  his 
voice  is  heard  preaching  Christ.  Persecution  breaks 
forth  against  him.  The  harpies  of  bigotry  hunt  him 
from  the  pulpit  to  the  prison.  For  twelve  years  he 
lies  confined  in  a  miserable  dungeon,  whose  walls 
are  ever  dripping  with  damp,  for  the  notable  offence 
of  preaching  the  Gospel !  But,  from  that  dim  apart- 
ment, he  sends  forth  a  book,  whose  original  concep- 
tion, grand  and  beautiful  imagery,  touching  pathos, 
purity  of  style,  and  truthfulness  to  nature  and  expe- 
rience, give  its  author  an  almost  unrivalled  fame. 
And  to-day,  the  tomb  of  John  Bunyan,  the  con- 
verted tinker,  the  author  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
is  sought  out  by  the  loftiest  sons  of  genius,  who 
stand  upon  the  sweet  dreamer's  ashes,  and  sigh 
for  the  inspiration  which  gave  enchantment  to  hi? 
pen. 

The  point,  in  this  illustration,  which  it  is  import- 


82  Y0TJNB-  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

ant  to  the  young  man  to  notice,  is,  that  it  was  relig- 
ion which  called  the  hidden  powers  of  Bunyan's 
intellect  into  exercise,  and  directed  them  to  a  holy 
end.  But  for  religion,  instead  of  being  a  star  of 
surpassing  beauty,  shedding  the  purest  rays  of  soft 
and  holy  light  on  the  human  intellect,  he  would  have 
lived  a  loathsome  human  reptile,  crawling  in  the 
dust,  and  spitting  the  venom  of  death  upon  mankind. 
He  would  have  died 

"  Silent,  unseen,  unnoticed,  unlamented." 

To  religion,  therefore,  as  the  grand  stimulant,  the 
mighty  developing  agent,  of  the  human  intellect, 
should  every  young  man  direct  his  fixed  attention. 
A  power  of  unknown  extent  resides  in  its  great  ideas. 
Great  thoughts  always  stir  the  attentive  mind,  just 
as  high  winds  cause  the  thick  leaves  of  the  tree  to 
rustle.  They  enlarge  it,  too.  The  soul  of  a  philos- 
opher lives  in  a  wider  sphere,  and  experiences  nobler 
emotions,  than  the  soul  of  a  peasant,  only  because  it 
has  become  conversant  with  the  grandeur  of  the 
universe.  Let  the  peasant  employ  the  same  means, 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    83 

and  his  confined  spirit,  bursting  the  cerements  of 
its  intellectual  sepulchre,  will  soar  freely  into 
realms  of  glorious  thought.  But  religion  brings  the 
soul  into  contact  with  loftier  and  grander  ideas  than 
belong  to  the  province  of  philosophy.  Before  the 
gaze  of  a  seeker  after  Christ,  it  unfolds  the  sublime 
idea  of  GOD.  It  leads  forth  the  awakened  mind,  from 
the  narrow  boundaries  of  worldly  thought,  into  the 
vastness  of  the  INFINITE  ;  and  bids  it  stretch  its  pow- 
ers in  the  attempt  to  comprehend  ETERNITY  !  It 
reveals  to  the  mind  the  consciousness  of  its  own 
immortality ;  to  its  moral  perceptions  it  unfolds  the 
stern  grandeur  of  immutable  justice,  the  tremendous 
results  of  evil,  and  the  transcendent  beauty  of  holi- 
ness. To  soothe  its  fears  and  attract  its  hopes, 
it  displays  the  idea  of  Love,  as  manifested  in  the 
character  and  death  of  the  great  God-man,  Jesus 
Christ ! 

It  is  impossible  for  the  most  stultified  intellect  to 
ta  brought  into  contact  with  these  overwhelming 
thoughts,  without  being  awakened  from  its  slumbers, 
and  startled  into  action.  Hence,  the  introduction  of 


84  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

the  Christian  religion  to  a  nation  is  the  epoch,  of  its 
mental  birth ;  and  the  entrance  upon  a  spiritual  life 
lias  proved  the  birth-hour  of  a  new  intellectual  life 
to  thousands  of  individual  Christians.  It  is  the  fault 
pf  its  recipients  that  it  is  not  so  to  all. 

Religion  also  strengthens,  as  well  as  awakens,  the 
intellect.  Its  primary  condition  —  faith  in  Christ 
—  requires  the  highest  exercise  of  the  powers  of 
abstraction  and  attention.  For  faith  is  the  trustful 
gaze  of  the  soul  on  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  —  the 
concentration  of  a  sinner's  mind  and  heart  on  the 
idea  of  a  sin-forgiving  God.  It  necessarily  involves 
the  exercise  of  complete  abstraction,  and  powerful 
attention.  As  this  faith  is  required  to  be  habitual, 
its  operations  must  strengthen  these  important  facul- 
ties. Besides  this,  religion  leads  to  the  study  of  that 
great  book,  the  Bible.  Here  are  found  the  seeds 
of  impregnating,  healthy  thought ;  —  the  sublimest 
poetry,  the  purest  history,  the  most  touching  biogra- 
phy, and  the  profoundest  philosophy.  The  study  of 
these  excellences  naturally  leads  to  that  of  collateral 
history,  and  to  the  highest  exercises  of  the  intellect : 


INTELLIGENCE  AN  ELEMENT  OF  SUCCESS  IN  LIFE.    85 

so  that  it  is  impossible  for  a  believer  in  Christ  to  be 
faithful  to  the  duties  and  teachings  of  religion,  with- 
out thereby  developing  his  intellect,  and  becoming  a 
man  of  power :  as  in  the  case  of  Bunyan,  —  of 
Newton,  the  admired  author  of  the  Olney  hymns,  — 
of  Kichard  Watson,  the  celebrated  orator  and  theolo- 
gian,—  and  thousands  more,  whose  mental  strength 
lay  hidden  even  from  themselves,  until  called  out  by 
the  power  of  divine  truth. 

Behold,  in  these  statements,  young  man,  another 
argument  in  favor  of  a  religious  life!  Embrace 
Christ  as  the  best,  perhaps  the  only  means  of  bring- 
ing your  intellect  into  a  state  of  vigorous  and  healthy 
life,  —  as  the  guardian  angel  of  your  genius,  if  it  be 
already  manifested !  Yjeld  yourself  up  honestly  and 
fully  to  the  claims  of  God  in  Christ !  Be  a  spiritual, 
intellectual  Christian !  Thus  shall  your  mental  and 
moral  powers  grow  in  harmonious  proportion.  Your 
heart  shall  be  warm  with  emotions  of  love,  —  your 
understanding  strong,  mature,  potential,  —  your  con- 
science illuminated,  quick,  and  pure,  —  your  will 
upright,  controlling,  and  inflexible.  These  things 


86  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

being  in  you  and  abounding,  you  can  hardly  fail  of 
success  in  the  great  battle  of  life,  nor  of  rising  to 
the  honor  of  Christ's  glorious  kingdom  in  the  life  to 
come.  Decide,  therefore,  oh  young  man !  to  listen 
attentively  to  the  voice  of  Jesus  Christ.  Let  him 
woo  you  to  himself,  through  the  sweet  lines  of  the 
sacred  poet,  who  thus  beautifully  sings  :  — 

"  The  wild  dove  hath  her  nest ; 
Earth,  in  her  bosom,  shields  the  timid  hare  ; 
Flowers  sleep  'neath  heaven's  azure  fane ;  but  where, 
Except  ye  come  to  me,  shall  ye  find  rest  ? 

"  Ye  of  the  troubled  breast, 
Weighed  down  with  sorrow,  and  of  life  aweary, 
Whose  paths  extend  through  deserts  waste  and  dreary, 
Come,  then,  to  me,  — I  will  impart  relief! 

"  In  life's  glad  summer  «ome  ; 
Earth's  lovely  things,  the  beautiful,  the  gay, 
Are  they  not  swept  as  autumn  leaves  away  ? 
So  pass  your  hopes  and  visions  to  the  tomb. 

"  Though  by  the  world  caressed, 
Though  all  its  treasures  glitter  at  your  feet, 
And  life's  young  years  with  rapture  be  replete, 
O,  what  are  these  to  heaven  —  a  heaven  of  rest  1 " 


CHAPTEK  Y. 

ENERGY  AN  ELEMENT  OF  DISTINCTION. 

T  is  impossible  !  "  said  one  of  Na- 
poleon's staff  officers,  in  reply  to 
his  great  commander's  description 
of  a  plan  for  some  daring  enter- 
prise. 

'  IMPOSSIBLE  !  "   cried     the     em- 
peror,  with   indignation    frowning   on 
is  brow,  —  "Impossible  is  the  adjective 
of  fools ! " 

This  may  be  an  apocryphal  anecdote  of 
the  imperial  conqueror;  but  it  is  at  least 
characteristic.  It  displays  that  consciousness  of 
power  to  overcome  the  mightiest  obstacles,  and  to 
accomplish  the  most  extravagant  purposes,  which 
was  one  of  the  chief  elements  of  his  early  success. 
Its  language  is  the  strong  expression  of  a  mind 


88  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

charged  with  an  energy  alike  irresistible  and  uncon- 
querable. And  every  young  man,  who  hopes  to 
stand  triumphant  at  the  goal  of  life,  must  possess  a 
measure  of  this  energy  proportionate  to  the  exigen- 
cies of  his  condition. 

Energy  is  force  of  character  —  inward  power.  It 
imports-  such  a  concentration  of  the  will  upon  the 
realization  of  an  idea,  as  enables  the  individual  tr 
march  unawed  over  the  most  gigantic  barriers,  or  to 
crush  every  opposing  force  that  stands  in  the  way 
of  his  triumph.  Energy  knows  of  nothing  but  suc- 
cess :  it  will  not  hearken  to  voices  of  discourage- 
ment :  it  never  yields  its  purpose ;  though  it  may 
perish  beneath  an  avalanche  of  difficulty,  yet  it 
dies  contending  for  its  ideal. 

LONGFELLOW'S  EXCELSIOR  is  a  beautiful  embodi- 
ment of  the  idea  of  Energy.  Its  hero  is  a  young 
man  seeking  genuine  excellence  :  proving  himself 
superior  to  the  love  of  ease,  the  blandishments  of 
passion,  and  the  sternest  outward  difficulties.  The 
reader  beholds  him  ascending  the  rugged  steeps  of 
the  upper  Alps,  at  the  dangerous  hour  of  twilight 


ENERGY    AN    ELEMENT    OF    DISTINCTION.  89 

In  his  hand  he  bears  a  banner,  whose  strange  device, 
"  EXCELSIOR,"  is  the  visible  expression  of  his  noble 
purpose,  to  attain  the  height  of  human  excellence. 
His  brow  is  sad,  his  eyes  are  gleaming  with  the 
light  of  lofty  thought,  his  step  is  firm  and  elastic ; 
while  his  deep,  earnest  cry,  "  EXCELSIOR  ! "  rings 
with  startling  effect  among  the  surrounding  crags 
and  glaciers.  Ease,  in  the  form  of  an  enchanting 
cottage,  with  its  cheerful  fire-side,  invites  him  to 
relax  his  effort.  Danger  frowns  upon  him,  from  the 
brow  of  the  awful  avalanche,  and  from  the  "  pine 
tree's  withered  branch."  Caution,  in  the  person  of 
an  aged  Alpine  peasant,  shouts  in  his  ear  and  bids 
him  beware ;  while  Love,  in  the  form  of  a  gentle 
maiden,  with  heaving  breast  and  bewitching  voice, 
woos  him  to  her  quiet  bowers.  But  vain  are  the 
'seductions  of  love,  the  voices  of  fear,  or  the  aspects 
of  danger.  Eegardless  of  each  and  of  all,  animated 
by  his  sublime  aims,  intent  on  success,  he  only 
grasps  his  mysterious  banner  more  firmly,  and  bounds 
with  swifter  step  along  the  dangerous  steep.  Through 
falling  snows,  along  unseen  paths,  amidst  intense 


90  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

darkness,  beside  the  most  horrible  chasms,  he  pur- 
sues his  way,  cheering  his  spirit,  and  startling  the 
ear  of  night,  with  his  battle-cry,  "  Excelsior  !  "  until, 
on  reaching  the  summit,  in  the  moment  of  accom- 
plished purpose,  his  work  done,  his  manly  form 
chilled  by  the  cold  breath  of  the  frost,  he  falls  —  yea, 
nobly  falls  —  into  the  treacherous  snow-drift,  and 

"  There  in  the  twilight,  cold  and  gray, 
Lifeless,  but  beautiful,  he  lay  ; 
And  from  the  sky,  serene  and  far, 
A  voice  fell,  like  a  falling  star, 
Excelsior ! " 

From  the  summit  of  human  attainment  on  earth, 
he  had  gone  to  dwell  in  the  blessed  heaven  of  God. 
There  his  spirit,  bathed  in  light,  soars  forever  amidst 
the  unspeakable  glories  of  the  Infinite. 

This  is  a  beautiful  ideal  of  an  energetic  youth  tri- 
umphing, even  to  the  salvation  of  his  immortal  soul. 
May  the  dream  of  the  poet  be  realized  in  the  experi- 
ence of  the  reader ! 

Energy  is  the  soul  of  every  great  achievement ; 
while  enervation  emasculates  the  spirit,  and  dooms 


ENERGY    AN    ELEMENT    OF    DISTINCTION.  91 

the  man  to  obscurity  and  ill  success.  Men  of  feeble 
action  are  accustomed  to  attribute  their  misfortunes 
to  what  is  vulgarly  termed  "  ill  luck"  They  envy 
the  men  who  climb  the  ladder  of  eminence,  and  cal) 
them  "  the  favorite  children  of  fortune,  —  lucky  men, 
and  men  of  peculiar  opportunity."  This  is  a  vain 
and  foolish  imagination.  It  is  not  ill  fortune,  so 
much  as  an  enervated  mind,  that  keeps  thousands  in 
inglorious  obscurity.  The  blundering  student,  who 
stammers  out  an  ill-learned  lesson  in  his  college 
class,  and  gains  his  diploma,  at  last,  through  indul- 
gence rather  than  merit,  owes  his  degraded  position 
more  to  that  voluntary  mental  imbecility  which  has 
ever  shrunk  from  the  labor  of  study,  than  to  any 
absolute  mental  inferiority.  His  triumphant  class- 
mate, who  quits  his  college  adorned  with  the  proudest 
honors  of  his  Alma  Mater,  is  as  much  indebted  to 
his  persevering  energy,  as  to  his  native  genius,  for 
his  honorable  victory.  He  might,  had  he  been 
equally  supine,  have  been  equally  degraded  with 
his  unhonored  class-mate.  But  his  energy  saved 
him.  So,  in  all  the  other  walks  of  life,  energy  pro- 


92  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

duces  good  fortune  and  success,  while  enervation 
breeds  misfortune  and  "  bad  Iwk" 

If  any  young  man  desires  a  confirmation  of  these 
ideas,  let  him  carefully  study  the  history  of  every 
man  who  has  written  his  name  on  the  walls  of  the 
Temple  of  Fame.  Let  him  view  such  minds  in  their 
progress  towards  greatness.  He  will  see  them  rising 
step  by  step,  in  the  face  of  stubborn  difficulties,  which 
gave  way  before  them  only  because  their  courage 
would  not  be  daunted,  nor  their  energy  wearied. 
He  will  find  no  exception,  in  the  history  of  mankind. 
Supine,  powerless  souls  have  always  fainted  before 
hostile  circumstances,  and  sank  beneath  their  oppor- 
tunities; while  men  of  power  have  wrestled  with 
sublime  vigor  against  all  opposing  men  and  things, 
and  obtained  success  because  they  would  not  be 
defeated. 

I  might  illustrate  these  views  from  the  biography 
of  any  eminent  man ;  but  I  select  CHRISTOPHER 
COLUMBUS  as  peculiarly  adapted  to  my  purpose.  He 
was  the  son  of  an  obscure  wool-comber,  in  indigent 
circumstances,  at  Genoa.  His  early  education  was 


ENERGY   AN    ELEMENT    OF    DISTINCTION.  93 

limited.  Bred  to  the  profession  of  seamanship,  and 
having  a  strong  passion  for  geographical  studies,  his 
thoughtful  mind  conceived  the  idea  that  unknown 
empires  existed  west  of  the  great  Atlantic.  He 
dwelt  upon  this  thought,  until  it  became  fixed  in  his 
mind  with  singular  firmness.  It  fired  his  soul  with 
noble  enthusiasm ;  it  gave  elevation  to  his  spirit ;  it 
clothed  his  person  with  dignity,  and  inspired  his 
demeanor  with  loftiness.  Thus  animated,  he  re- 
solved to  realize  the  truth  of  his  great  conception. 
Now  came  the  test  of  his  character.  The  idea  itself 
was  grand,  and  its  conception  bespoke  the  possession 
of  a  towering  and  glorious  intellect.  But,  to  make 
that  conception  a  reality,  to  prove  himself  a  true  son 
of  Genius,  and  not  a  mere  romantic  dreamer,  required 
the  exercise  of  such  a  measure  of  faith,  self-reliance 
and  enduring  energy,  as  is  seldom  demanded  of  any 
man,  even  in  the  greatest  of  human  enterprises. 

But  Columbus  felt  equal  to  his  work,  and  he  set 
about  it  with  a  purpose  to  do  it.  How  sublime  does 
he  appear  in  his  conflict  with  poverty,  ridicule,  and 
ignorance  !  The  announcement  of  his  beloved  idea 


94  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

was  greeted  with  torrents  of  derisive  sarcasm,  from 
prince  and  peasant,  from  learned  savans  and  stupid 
dunces.  Powerless  and  moneyless  himself,  he  re- 
quired the  patronage  of  the  powerful.  Hence,  he 
placed  himself  at  the  foot  of  the  Portuguese  throne 
stated  his  views,  and  demanded  ships  to  explore  the 
ocean.  Treated  with  fraud  unworthy  of  a  court,  the 
intrepid  man  fled  to  Genoa,  and  importuned  for  aid 
in  his  native  city.  Unable  to  rouse  the  ambition  of 
his  countrymen,  he  repaired  to  Venice,  and  met  with 
similar  disappointment.  From  thence,  he  travelled 
to  Spain,  and  plead  his  cause  before  the  lordly  Ferd- 
inand and  his  great-minded  queen,  Isabella.  There 
he  was  amused  with  promises  of  ships  and  men,  foi 
several  years,  during  which  time  he  perseveringly 
followed  the  court  in  its  frequent  journeyings.  At 
last,  wearied  with  their  delays,  but  still  resolute  in 
his  purpose,  he  prepared  to  quit  Spain,  and  turned 
his  footsteps  towards  the  court  of  France.  Arrested 
on  his  journey  by  the  persuasions  of  an  intelligent 
monk,  he  returned  to  Isabella's  court,  obtained  the 


ENERGY    ATI    ELEMENT    OF    DISTINCTION.  95 

long   delayed   means,  and   set   sail   on   seas  whose 
waters  had  never  been  cleaved  by  a  vessel's  prow. 

With  what  high  and  confident  expectation  did 
the  adventurous  discoverer  pass  the  boundaries  of 
former  navigation  !  With  what  patient  zeal  did  he 
overcome  the  superstition  which  made  cowards  of 
his  mariners,  and  the  ignorant  envy  which  very 
nearly  converted  them  into  mutineers !  By  the 
force  of  his  own  indomitable  will  alone,  he  soothed 
their  fears,  and  held  them  to  their  duties,  until  he 
proudly  anchored  his  vessels  off  the  shores  of  the 
New  World.  And  when  the  haughty  flag  of  Spain 
flaunted  in  the  breezes  of  the  western  hemisphere, 
as  the  sign  of  its  subjugation  to  the  crown  of  Isabella, 
it  chiefly  proclaimed  the  moral  majesty  of  that  un 
conquerable  energy  through  which  the  noble-minded 
Columbus  had  singly  defied  the  most  formidable 
obstacles,  and  revealed  a  hidden  world  to  the  won- 
dering eyes  of  mankind. 

Are  you,  my  reader,  an  aspirant  £fter  distinguished 
success?  Then,  you  must  diligently  'cultivate  an 
untiring,  persisting,  victorious  energy,  like  that  which 


96  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

gave  Columbus  his  renown.  Is  your  lot  lowly,  and 
your  sphere  very  limited?  Are  your  difficulties 
apparently  insurmountable  ?  What  then  ?  Are  you 
therefore  to  write  yourself  a  nothing,  and  remain  a 
cipher  in  society  ?  Nay !  You  must  rather  bring 
an  irresistible  force  of  character  to  bear  upon  every 
work  of  life.  Be  supine  in  nothing !  Never  despair 
of  success  in  any  judicious  enterprise  !  Resolve  to 
accomplish  whatever  you  undertake;  and  though 
you  may  not  discover  a  new  world,  like  Columbus ; 
nor  introduce  mankind  to  the  occult  mysteries  of 
nature,  like  Newton ;  nor  attain  the  wealth  of  Roths 
child,  or  Astor ;  yet,  you  may  climb  to  the  summit 
of  your  profession,  attain  to  honorable  distinction, 
and  transmit  to  your  posterity  that  most  valuable  of 
all  bequests  —  a  good  name. 

Yet  you  must  beware  of  rashness.  Successful  en- 
ergy is  a  Bucephalus,  guided  by  the  hand  of  an  Alex- 
ander ;  rashness  is  as  Mazeppa's  fiery  steed,  unbridled 
and  unrestrained,  bearing  its  rider  over  hill  and  dale, 
to  probable  destruction.  The  former  is  power,  guided 
by  wisdom ;  the  latter  is  power,  goaded  to  act  by 


ENERGY   AN    ELEMENT    OF    DISTINCTION.  97 

blind  impulses.  Many  men,  now  pining  in  discour- 
agement, have  expended  energy  sufficient  for  the 
highest  success.  But  they  have  failed  of  their  re- 
ward, because  they  sought  not  for  counsel  at  the  lips 
of  wisdom.  Rash  enterprises,  impetuously  begun, 
hurried  them  to  ruin.  In  their  business,  they  resem- 
bled an  oriental  warrior,  named  DERAR,  who  was 
once  sent,  with  a  small  force,  by  ABU  BEKER,  the 
Moslem  caliph,  to  hinder  the  progress  of  an  advanc- 
ing army,  near  the  plains  of  Damascus.  Derar  found 
the  foe  to  consist  of  masses  of  troops  sufficient  to 
overwhelm  his  little  band ;  but,  instead  of  hovering 
round  their  flank,  and  harassing  their  march,  he 
foolishly  resolved  on  a  regular  attack.  His  voice 
thundered  his  battle-cry,  and,  followed  by  the  flower 
of  his  chivalric  soldiers^  he  rushed,  with  the  fury 
of  a  whirlwind,  upon  the  astonished  enemy.  So 
fiery  was  his  onset,  that  the  foe  gave  way,  and  their 
rich  standard  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  bold  assailant. 
But  his  success  was  of  brief  duration;  numbers 
speedily  prevailed,  and  Derar  fell  wounded  into  the 
hands  of  his  enemies.  Every  Moslem  in  his  devoted 
7 

• 


98  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

little  troop  would  have  perished,  but  for  the  timely 
approach  of  the  main  body  of  the  Arab  army,  which 
arrived  in  season  to  rescue  them  from  destruction. 

Thus  has  many  a  mercantile  Derar  rushed  madly 
upon  an  army  of  debts,  which,  after  harassing  him 
into  a  premature  old  age,  have  led  him  forth,  a  poor, 
dispirited  creature,  into  the  bondage  of  bankruptcy. 

Beware,  then,  young  man,  of  mistaking  rashness 
for  energy  !  They  are  so  nearly  allied  that  the  mis- 
take is  easy.  To  guard  you  as  much  as  possible,  I 
will  draw  a  simple  sketch  of  a  rash  man,  plunging, 
through  excess  of  energy,  —  which  is  the  same  thing 
with  rashness,  —  into  business  ruin. 

I  will  call  him  EDGAR.  In  his  youth  he  was  ap- 
prenticed to  a  respectable  tailor,  became  a  superior 
workman,  and,  as  soon  as  his  apprenticeship  expired, 
determined,  without  capital,  and  contrary  to  the  ad- 
vice of  all  his  friends,  to  commence  business  on  his 
own  account.  His  reputation  as  a  good  apprentice 
procured  him  credit.  He  hired  a  store,  purchased  a 
small  stock  of  goods,  and  rejoiced  to  see  his  name 
shining  in  gilt  letters  as  a  merchant  tailor.  Custom 


ENERGY    AN    ELEMENT    OF    DISTINCTION.  99 

came  in  freely ;  success  seemed  sure,  notwithstand- 
ing the  fears  of  his  cautious  friends.  He  redoubled 
his  efforts,  increased  his  stock,  ornamented  his  store, 
and  made  quite  a  stir  among  business  men.  Such 
were  his  activity,  punctuality  and  industry,  that  his 
business  continued  to  advance ;  and  in  a  year  or  two 
it  exceeded  that  of  many  older  firms  in  his  vicinity. 
He  now  married,  and  for  a  time  everything  went  on 
prosperously.  But  he  was  ambitious  of  haying  the 
finest  store,  and  the  largest  stock,  of  any  dealer  in 
his  line  of  business.  Hence  he  constantly  purchased 
beyond  the  necessities  of  his  business.  As  a  se- 
quence, his  notes  matured  before  the  means  came  in, 
and  he  began  to  be  seen  in  the  street,  running  from 
store  to  store,  with  the  question,  "  Have  you  any- 
thing over  to-day  ? " 

The  frequency  of  these  calls,  and  the  difficulty  he 
found  in  promptly  repaying  the  sums  thus  generously 
loaned,  awakened  suspicion  as  to  his  safety,  and  his 
fellow-merchants  soon  met  his  question  with  an 
almost  universal  negative.  This  ought  to  have 
checked  his  passion  for  a  large  stock.  But,  eager  as 


100  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

ever  for  display,  he  persisted  in  buying  beyond  the 
immediate  demands  of  his  trade.  As  a  thrifty  mer- 
chant, too,  he  thought  he  must  elevate  his  style  of 
living.  A  better  house,  expensive  furniture,  a  ser- 
vant, the  luxuries  of  the  table,  soon  absorbed  large 
portions  of  his  profits.  Still,  his  notes  came  to 
maturity  with  alarming  rapidity.  Driven  to  extrem- 
ity, he  resorted  to  that  side-door  to  ruin,  a  broker's 
office.  Exorbitant  interest  only  increased  his  em- 
barrassments. His  temper  grew  sour ;  visions  of  ruin 
and  bankruptcy  floated  before  his  eyes,  and  made 
him  nervous  and  unhappy.  He  struggled,  like  a 
giant  in  bonds,  for  a  few  years ;  but,  after  growing 
prematurely  gray  in  the  conflict,  he  was  forced  to 
submit.  His  disgraced  name  appeared  in  the  Gazette ; 
and  to-day  Edgar  sits  on  the  bench,  laboring  for  a 
scanty  support,  as  an  unknown  journeyman  tailor  — 
a  discouraged  man ! 

It  is  easy  for  the  reader  to  see  that  Edgar  ruined 
himself  by  excess  of  energy ;  or,  in  other  words,  by 
rashness.  Had  he  taken  prudent  advice  at  the  be- 
ginning, and  acquired  a  small  capital  in  advance ; 


ENERGY    AN    ELEMENT    OF    DISTINCTION.          101 

had  he  then  wisely  regulated  his  purchases  by  his 
actual  resources,  and  restrained  his  personal  ex- 
penses within  the  limit  of  his  means,  his  strong  force 
of  character  would  have  placed  him  among  the  first 
men  of  his  class.  But  he  was  rash,  and  therefore 
he  was  ruined.  His  example  is  placed  before  the 
young  merchant,  that,  as  a  beacon  upon  a  sunken  rock 
warns  the  mariner  of  danger,  it  may  save  him  from 
a  similar  fate. 

The  energy  of  many  men  is  impulsive.  It  is  to- 
day a  dashing,  roaring  torrent ;  to-morrow,  it  is  a 
stagnant  pool.  An  accidental  circumstance  will  call 
out  every  power  of  their  souls,  and,  for  a  season, 
they  will  excel  themselves,  and  startle  their  friends. 
But  they  speedily  spend  their  force,  and  lapse  into 
stupid  somnolency,  until  roused  again  by  some  bugle 
olast  of  excitement.  Such  minds  accomplish  but 
little.  They  lose  more  in  their  slumbers  than  they 
gain  in  their  fitful  hours  of  action.  The  calm,  steady 
energy  of  the  snail,  slow  as  are  its  movements,  is 
better  calculated  to  produce  results,  than  the  spas- 
modic leaps  of  the  hare.  Hence,  in  the  formation 


102  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

of  character,  it  is  of  vital  importance  to  cultivate  a 
steady,  uniform,  unyielding  energy. 

But  how  is  this  high  qualification  to  be  gained  ? 
Where  is  this  precious  possession  to  be  obtained  ?  I 
know  of  no  means  so  certain  and  effectual  as  that 
of  surrendering  the  soul  to  the  claims  of  religion, 
the  direct  tendency  of  which  is  to  call  the  whole 
force  of  the  intellect  and  the  affections  into  the  high- 
est and  healthiest  state  of  action.  What  is  the 
grand  central  command  of  the  Bible  ?  "  Thou  shall 
love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  HEART,  with  all  thy 
SOUL,  and  with  all  thy  MIGHT  ! "  Here  you  see 
that  energy  of  the  loftiest  character  is  demanded  of 
the  Christian.  Nor  is  the  command  permitted  to 
approach  him  as  an  impossible  attainment;  for,  to 
every  sincere  creature  who  resolves  to  submit  to  the 
commandment,  the  promise  of  God  says,  "  My  grace 
is  sufficient  for  thee"  Thus,  divine  power  works 
with  the  human,  and  the  man,  in  the  might  of  his 
soul,  stands  forth  as  the  servant  of  God. 

Nor  is  it  in  his  religious  duties  alone  that  the 
Christian  is  required  and  enabled  to  be  energetic. 


ENERGY    AN    ELEMENT    OF    DISTINCTION.         103 

The  Scriptures  demand  the  application  of  a  similar 
force  of  mind  to  all  the  duties  of  life.  With  au- 
thority they  thunder  in  the  ears  of  the  disciple, 
"WHATSOEVER  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with 
thy  MIGHT!"  Thus,  whether  his  work  be  to  fell  a 
tree,  to  plough  a  field,  to  build  a  house,  to  labor  in 
the  pulpit,  to  plead  at  the  bar,  or  to  pray  in  the 
closet,  the  law  is,  "  DO  IT  WITH  THY  MIGHT  ! " 

There  is  a  profound  meaning  in  this  command, 
rarely  observed.  It  contains  the  philosophy  of 
growth,  and  of  greatness.  It  teaches  that  it  is  by 
the  exercise  of  energy,  in  little  things,  we  are  to 
acquire  power  to  triumph  in  great  ones;  that  what 
we  find  to  be  done,  we  are  TO  DO  —  not  to  shrink 
from  doing,  because  of  its  difficulty.  Thus,  by  de- 
grees, the  soul  is  trained  to  put  forth  a  force  propor- 
tionate to  its  tasks ;  it  grows  in  might,  and  conquers 
by  habit.  Everything  it  does  is  well  done.  It  lives 
to  subdue  opposing  forces.  Instead  of  being  the 
sport  of  circumstances,  it  seizes  them  as  their  master, 
and  its  career  is  one  of  perpetual  triumph. 

Would  you  have  energy,  young  man?     Seek  it 


104  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

at  the  cross  of  Christ !  Let  the  spirit  of  Jesus  clothe 
you  with  its  divine  beauty,  and  stimulate  you  by  its 
mighty,  life-giving  force !  Only  be  true  to  its  holy 
promptings,  and  you  will  surely  acquire  the  energy 
which  grapples  successfully  with  the  obstacles  of 
this  terrestrial  life,  and  climbs  to  the  height  of  the 
celestial  and  eternal  land. 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

INDUSTRY  THE  HIGHWAY  TO  SUCCESS. 

HAVE  somewhere  read  an  old 
legend,  which,  however  false  in 
fact,  contains  a  precious  lesson. 
It  states  that,  some  centuries  ago, 
man,  resident  in  Egypt,  became 
a  convert  to  the  Christian  faith 
The  spirit  of  the  times  favored  ascet- 
icism ;  and  he,  being  of  a  contempla- 
tive mind,  conceived  the  unnatural  idea 
that  if  he  could  retire  far  from  human 
society,  and  spend  his  days  in  solitary 
contemplation,  he  should  attain  to  the  perfection 
of  human  happiness  on  earth.  Filled  with  this 
thought,  he  bade  adieu  to  the  abodes  of  men,  wan- 
dered far  into  the  desert,  selected  a  cave,  near 
which  flowed  a  living  spring,  for  his  home,  and, 


106  YOUNG   M4NJS   COUNSELLOR.. 

subsisting  on  the  scanty  crops  of  roots  and  herbs 
which  sprang  up  spontaneously  in  the  adjacent 
glens  and  valleys,  began  his  life  of  meditation  and 
prayer. 

He  had  not  spent  many  seasons  in  his  hermitage 
before  his  solitary  heart  grew  miserable  beyond 
endurance.  The  long,  weary  hours  of  the  day,  and 
the  dreary,  interminable  night,  oppressed  and  crushed 
his  listless  soul.  In  the  extremity  of  his  wretched- 
ness, he  fell  upon  his  face,  and  cried,  "  Father,  call 
home  thy  child !  Let  me  die !  I  am  weary  of 
life  ! " 

Thus,  stricken  with  grief,  he  fell  asleep ;  and  in 
his  vision  an  angel  stood  before  him,  and  spake, 
saying  :  "  Cut  down  the  palm-tree  that  grows  beside 
yon  spring,  and  of  its  fibres  construct  a  rope  ! " 

The  vision  passed  away,  and  the  hermit  awoke 
with  a  resolution  to  fulfil  his  mission.  But  he  had 
no  axe,  and,  therefore,  journeyed  far  to  procure 
one.  On  his  return,  he  felled  the  tree,  and  diligently 
labored  until  its  fibres  lay  at  his  feet,  formed  into 
a  coil  of  rope.  Again  the  angel  stood  before  him, 


INDUSTRY    THE    HIGHWAY   TO   SUCCESS.  107 

and  said,  '  Dominic,  you  are  now  no  longer  weary 
of  life,  but  you  are  happy.  Know,  then,  that  man 
was  made  for  labor;  and  prayer  also  is  his  duty. 
Both  are  essential  to  his  happiness.  Go,  therefore, 
into  the  world,  with  this  rope  girded  upon  thy  loins. 
Let  it  be  a  memorial  to  thee  of  what  God  expects 
from  man ! " 

This  beautiful  legend  illustrates  a  truth  which 
every  young  man  should  engrave  on  his  heart  — 
that  industry  is  essential  to  the  enjoyment  of  life. 
It  is  a  law  of  the  human  constitution  that  mankind 
shall  find  their  happiness  and  their  development 
in  action.  And  it  were  as  easy  to  grasp  the  forked 
lightning,  or  to  stay  the  fiery  waves  of  the  volcano, 
as  to  contravene  this  law.  Nay!  it  cannot  be; 
for  He  who  said,  "  In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt 
thou  eat  bread  till  thou  return  unto  the  ground" 
has  established  this  inseparable  connection  between 
industry  and  enjoyment. 

Industry  implies  regular  and  habitual  devotion 
to  a  useful  pursuit.  It  is  covetous  of  moments, 
and  guards  them  as  a  miser  his  grains  of  gold. 


108  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

Moments,  to  the  industrious  man.  are  as  flowers 
to  bees;  they  furnish  him  with  the  opportunity 
of  accomplishing  his  ends.  He  beholds  in  them 
the  fractional  parts  of  his  life,  and  applies  the 
maxim  of  the  economist  to  their  expenditure.  His 
rule  is :  "  Take  care  of  the  moments,  and  the 
years  will  take  care  of  themselves."  He  is  assidu- 
ous, not  as  a  "hen  over  an  addled  egg,"  but  to 
bring  benefit  out  of  his  assiduity.  He  knows  that 
it  is  possible  to  be  always  "busy  about  nothing," 
like  jEropus,  the  .Macedonian  king,  who  wasted 
his  life  while  busy  in  making  lanterns!  or,  like 
Prince  Bonbennin,  in  Goldsmith's  "Citizen  of  the 
World,"  who  was  never  more  idle  than  when  trav- 
ersing his  kingdom,  searching  after  a  pretty  "  white 
mouse  with  green  eyes." 

Behold  yon  graceful  and  sprightly  "  swallow  zig- 
zagging over  the  clover-field,  skimming  the  limpid 
lake,  whisking  round  the  steeple,  or  dancing  gayly  in 
the  sky  !  Behold  him  in  high  spirits,  shrieking  out 
his  ecstasy,  as  he  has  bolted  a  dragon-fly,  or  darted 
through  the  arrow  slits  of  an  old  turret,  or  performed 


INDUSTRY    THE    HIGHWAY   TO    SUCCESS.  109 

some  other  feat  of  hirundine  agility !  And  notice 
how  he  pays  his  morning  visits  —  alighting  elegantly 
on  some  house-top,  and  twittering  politely,  by  turns, 
to  the  swallow  on  either  side  of  him ;  and  after  five 
minutes'  conversation,  off  and  away,  to  call  for  his 
friend  at  the  castle.  And  now  he  is  gone  upon  his 
travels  —  gone  to  spend  the  winter  at  Eome  or 
Naples,  to  visit  Egypt  or  the  Holy  Land,  or  perform 
some  more  recherche  pilgrimage  to  Spain  or  the 
coasts  of  Barbary.  And  when  he  comes  home  next 
April,  sure  enough  he  has  been  abroad :  charm- 
ing climate  —  highly  delighted  with  the  cicadas  in 
Italy,  and  the  bees  on  Hymettus  —  locusts  in  Africa 
rather  scarce  this  season ;  but,  upon  the  whole,  much 
pleased  with  his  trip,  and  returned  in  high  health 
and  spirits." 

Such  is  the  severe  satire  which  the  popular  Robert 
Hamilton  employs  to  chastise  that  large  class  of 
busy  idlers  which  abounds  in  Europe,  and  which  is 
fast  multiplying  in  America.  How  degraded  a  thing 
is  life  as  thus  spent  by  a  fashionable  young  man  of 
the  world,  whose  "  chief  end "  seems  to  consist  in 


110  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

puffing  cigars,  and  in  conforming  as  near  as  may  be 
to  the  example  of  the  swallow  in  the  above  picture. 
No  wonder  that  long  before  such  young  men  attain 
meridian,  they  exclaim,  with  "  CROAKER,"  in  Gold- 
smith's "Good-natured  Man,"  that  "Life  at  the 
greatest  arid  best  is  but  a  froward  child,  that  must  be 
humored  and  coaxed  a  little,  till  it  falls  asleep,  and 
then  all  the  care  is  over."  Shame  on  such  young 
men !  Beside  them,  the  twittering  swallow  is  honor- 
able and  elevated.  The  bird  was  made  for  such  a 
life,  and  thus  fulfils  its  destiny ;  but  that  silly  youth 
was  made  to  be  a  MAN  !  —  to  commune  with  God,  to 
labor  in  the  holy  charities  and  sublime  duties  of 
life. 

To  be  industrious,  then,  a  young  man  must  have  a 
useful  pursuit  arid  a  worthy  aim.  He  must  follow 
that  pursuit  diligently.  Rising  early  and  economiz- 
ing his  moments,  he  must  earnestly  persist  in  his 
toil,  adding  little  by  little  to  his  capital  stock  of  ideas, 
influence  or  wealth.  He  must  learn  to  glory  in  his 
labor,  be  it  mechanical,  agricultural,  or  professional 
He  must  impress  himself  deeply  with  the  idea  that 


INDUSTRY    THE    HIGHWAY    TO    SUCCESS.  Ill 

a  life  of  idleness  is  one  of  the  direst  of  all  curses. 
The  doctrine  that  labor,  even  of  the  humblest  char- 
acter, is  dishonorable,  he  must  resolutely  trample  in 
the  dust,  as  false  and  dangerous ;  and  contend  that 
an  industrious,  honest  scavenger  is  really  a  more 
honorable  man  than  the  most  fashionable  dandy, 
who  idles  away  his  time  on  the  pavements  of  Broad- 
way, in  ladies'  drawing-rooms,  in  cafes,  and  in 
theatres.  Thus,  eschewing  false  ideas,  and  making 
every  moment  fruitful  of  some  good  to  mind  or  body, 
to  himself  or  to  others,  he  cannot  fail  of  a  plenteous 
harvest  of  advantages  as  life  advances.  "  Seest  tkou 
a  man  diligent  in  his  business?  He  shall  stand 
before  kings.  He  shall  not  stand  before  mean  men." 
"  The  hand  of  the  diligent  shall  rule" 

I  love  to  honor  those  men  who  are  the  actual  of 
the  ideal  in  the  sacred  texts  just  quoted  —  the  pedes- 
tal of  whose  honorable  and  elevated  position  has 
been  hewed  out  of  the  reluctant  granite  by  their  own 
labor-loving  hands.  What  is  a  haughty  duke  or 
earl,  with  his  lofty  ancestry  runnii.  '  back  through  a 
thousand  years,  when  compared  with  an  industrious 


112  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

son  of  labor,  whose  patent  of  nobility  is  found  in  his 
own  noble  struggles  with  early  poverty  and  obscur- 
ity ?  Let  the  heart  of  the  young  man  answer  this 
question ! 

Permit  me  to  lead  you,  for  a  moment,  my  reader, 
into  yonder  printing-office.  Among  the  printers  are 
two  young  men  who  are  noted  for  the  unwearied 
assiduity  with  which  they  ply  their  daily  tasks. 
Always  in  the  office  at  the  appointed  hour,  ever  at 
their  posts,  toiling  with  uncomplaining  steadiness, 
never  yielding  to  the  lassitude  which  craves  a  respite 
before  its  work  is  finished,  they  have  secured  the 
respect  of  their  employers,  the  confidence  of  their 
friends,  and  are  slowly  improving  their  own  con- 
dition. Concerning  these  young  men,  suppose  I 
predict  that  they  will  one  day  become  widely  known 
and  immensely  rich.  What  do  you  reply  ? 

You  pronounce  my  prediction  an  extravagance, 
and  me  a  visionary  man !  Be  it  so.  Yet  under  the 
guise  of  this  fancy  I  have  exhibited  only  a  simple 
fact.  The  two  young  men  represent  Messrs.  JAMES 
AND  JOHN  HARPER,  who,  some  thirty  years  ago,  were 


INDUSTRY    THE    HIGHWAY    TO    SUCCESS.      v    113 

poor  journeymen  printers;  but  who,  to-day,  are 
owners  of  one  of  the  most  princely  publishing  estab- 
lishments in  the  world.  Their  names  are  household 
words  in  all  civilized  communities.  And  of  Mr. 
James  Harper  it  may  be  said,  that,  if  not,  like  the 
Whittington  of  our  boyish  reveries,  thrice  Lord 
Mayor  of  London,  he  has  been  once  Mayor  of  the 
chief  city  in  the  great  Empire  State.,  But  his  proud- 
est distinction  is,  that  he  and  his  brothers  have 
reared  their  magnificent  house  on  the  foundations 

Of  INTEGRITY,  ECONOMY,  AND   INDUSTRY  ! 

The  success  of  industrious  effort  finds  a  further 
illustration  in  the  case  of  a  little  boy  named  Arm- 
strong, who,  a  few  years  ago,  entered  a  Boston  print- 
ing-office, and  labored  diligently,  as  the  youngest 
apprentice,  at  the  lowest  tasks  of  the  establishment. 
Sedulously  attending  to  his  duties  as  they  increased 
in  responsibility,  he  kept  on  his  steady  way,  until, 
honorably  concluding  his  apprenticeship,  he  began 
business  for  himself  at  the  corner  of  Flag-alley,  in 
State-street.  Unwearied  in  his  devotion  to  his  pro- 
fession, his  custom  and  profits  increased.  Wealth 
8 


114  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

poured  in  apace  upon  him.  Honors  crowned  his 
brow ;  and  he  took  his  seat,  first  in  the  General  Court, 
then  in  the  honorable  chair  of  the  Boston  Mayor- 
alty, and  at  length  in  that  of  the  Lieutenant  Gov- 
ernor of  Massachusetts.  He  spent  the  closing 
years  of  his  life  in  a  pleasant  and  stately  mansion, 
an  affluent,  honorable,  and  independent  man  —  a 
noble  example  of  what  may  be  accomplished  by  the 
aids  of  industry.1* 

The  amount  of  profitable  labor  that  a  man  can 
healthfully  accomplish  during  a  life  of  threescore 
years  can  hardly  be  overrated.  The  examples  of 
preeminently  industrious  men  startle  ordinary  minds, 
and  they  surmise  that  some  friendly  hand  drew 
their  portraits,  and  was  too  lavish  in  the  coloring. 
But  facts  are  demonstrative  that  wonders  can  be 
accomplished  by  industry,  in  every  department  of 
human  life. 

WILLIAM  COBBETT,  whom  Ebenezer  Elliot  de- 
signated as  England's 

*  See  notice  of  Lieut.  Gov.  Armstrong,  by  Mr.  Buckingham,  in 
the  Boston  Conner, 


INDUSTRY   THE    HIGHWAY   TO    SUCCESS.  115 

"Mightiest  peasant  born," 

is  an  illustration.  He  was  of  low  birth,  and  was 
reared  in  poverty.  While  yet  a  young  man,  he 
enlisted  into  the  British  army.  After  serving  eight 
years,  he  was  discharged,  and  shortly  after  com- 
menced his  political  career.  From  that  time  to  his 
death,  embracing  a  period  of  forty-three  years, — 
during  which  he  travelled  extensively,  suffered  im- 
prisonments for  political  offences,  devoted  much  time 
to  agricultural  pursuits,  labored  incessantly  as  a 
political  agitator,  and  finally  became  a  member  of  the 
British  Parliament, — he  produced  and  published  no 
less  than  fifty  books  of  various  sizes,  and  on  a  variety 
of  topics,  besides  editing  ninety  volumes  of  his  politi- 
cal papers  !  the  effect  of  which  on  the  destinies  of 
England  justifies  the  strong  lines  of  the  lamented 
Corn-law  Rhymer,  who  thus  addresses  his  memory  : 

"  Dead  oak,  thou  livest !    Thy  smitten  hands, 

The  thunder  of  thy  brow, 
Speak  with  strange  tongues  in  many  lands, 
And  tyrants  hear  thee  NOW  !  " 

Now,  it  is  not  the   character  of  Cobbett  that  T 


116  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

commend  to  your  imitation,  but  his  industry.  With 
all  his  power,  energy  and  talent;  notwithstanding  his 
pen  made  the  aristocracy  of  England  tremble  before 
its  terrible  strokes,  he  was,  in  my  opinion,  "  a  bold, 
bad  man,"  actuated  by  passion,  hate  and  prejudice, 
rather  than  by  high  and  holy  principles.  Still,  his 
laborious  diligence  is  worthy  of  all  commendation, 
and  it  is  to  this,  rather  than  to  natural  talent,  that 
he  himself  ascribes  his  superiority  over  the  millions 
above  whose  head  he  rose  to  distinction.  A  diligent 
husbandry  of  his  time  was  the  talisman  by  which  he 
achieved  his  prodigious  labors;  and  this  is  within 
the  power  of  every  young  man,  who  may  also,  in  his 
turn,  astonish  and  shame  the  drones  among  mankind 
by  the  huge  measure  of  his  labors,  if  he  will  employ 
his  time  after  the  example  of  William  Cobbett.^ 

Martin  Luther,  Richard  Baxter,  John  Wesley, 
Adam  Clarke,  Richard  Watson,  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
Elihu  Burritt,  and  a  host  beside,  might  be  quoted  as 
demonstrations  of  what  may  be  done  by  an  industri- 

*  For  a  very  fair  critique  on  the  life  and  labors  of  Cobbett,  see 
Stanton's  "Sketches  of  Reforms  and  Reformers,"  page  156. 


INDUSTRY    THE    HIGHWAY   TO    SUCCESS.  117 

ous  employment  of  moments  during  a  life-time. 
But  what  does  it  avail  to  multiply  examples  ?  Let 
the  young  man  resolve  to  become  an  example  him- 
self. Determine  to  make  the  most  of  your  opportu- 
nities, my  young  friend ;  and  henceforth  act  on  the 
principle  that  moments  are  grains  of  gold,  by  the 
careful  gathering  of  which  you  are  to  become  rich  in 
knowledge,  in  experience,  in  honor,  and  in  happi- 
ness. 

It  is  often  objected,  that  unceasing  and  assiduous 
devotion  to  a  round  of  duties  is  unfavorable  to 
health.  The  pale  face  and  emaciated  form  of  the 
student,  the  feeble  frame  of  the  trembling  dyspeptic, 
and  the  dying  aspect  of  the  flushed  consumptive,  are 
pointed  out  as  illustrations  of  the  disastrous  influence 
of  toil  on  the  enjoyment  and  duration  of  life,  and 
as  arguments  in  favor  of  self-indulgence  and  indolent 
relaxation. 

Away  with  all  such  pleas  and  arguments,  my 
young  friend  !  They  are  the  voices  of  sloth.  True, 
a  man  may  overtax  his  powers,  and  injure  his  health, 
by  excessive  toil,  as  was,  no  doubt,  the  case  with  the 


118  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

unfortunate  HENRY  KIRKE  WHITE.  He  was  un- 
wisely ambitious,  and  attempted  tasks  with  a  consti- 
tutionally feeble  body,  which,  with  the  most  robust 
health,  he  could  scarcely  have  performed.  Such  a 
fact  teaches  that  we  must  proportion  our  labors  to 
our  capacities,  —  not  that  we  are  to  sink  into  supine 
indulgence,  lest  we  should  be  sick.  Nay,  it  is  not 
unrelaxing  industry,  systematically  pursued,  that 
pales  the  face  and  shortens  life.  The  fact  is,  that  the 
most  industrious  men  are  among  the  longest  livers  ; 
and  except  where  hereditary  diseases  enfeeble  them, 
are  usually  healthy.  Indeed,  industry  is  favorable 
to  health.  There  is  great  meaning  in  the  remark 
of  an  eastern  missionary  who  was  laboring  inces- 
santly on  the  translation  of  the  Scriptures  into  the 
Hindostan  tongue.  His  friends  expostulated  with 
him,  and  begged  him  to  relax.  "Nay,"  said  he; 
"  the  man  who  would  live  in  India  must  have  plenty 
of  work.  If  not,  he  will  yield  to  the  enervating  in- 
fluence of  the  climate,  and  lounge  away  his  days 
upon  the  sofa,  and  consequently  be  tossing  all  night 
on  his  sleepless  couch,  for  want  of  the  requisite 


INDUSTRY    THE    HIGHWAY    TO    SUCCESS.  119 

fatigue.  Then  comes  dejection  of  spirits,  and  pros- 
tration of  the  whole  man." 

The  missionary  was  right.  Indolence  destroys 
more  than  industry;  and  many  a  drone  who  has 
perished  prematurely,  had  his  friends  been  equally 
honest  with  Sir  Horace  Vere,  would  have  had  it 
said  of  him,  as  that  nobleman  said  of  his  brother, 
when  the  Marquis  of  Spinola  asked,  "  Pray,  Sir 
Horace,  of  what  did  your  brother  die  ?  " 

"  He  died  of  having  nothing  to  do !  "  was  the  bluff 
knight's  reply. 

When  I  am  told,  of  a  sickly  student,  that  he  is 
"  studying  himself  to  death,"  or  of  a  feeble  young 
mechanic,  or  clerk,  that  his  hard  work  is  destroying 
him,  I  study  his  countenance,  and  there,  too  often, 
read  the  real,  melancholy  truth  in  his  dull,  averted, 
sunken  eye,  discolored  skin,  pimpled  forehead,  and 
timid  manner.  These  signs  proclaim  that  the  young 
man  is  in  some  way  violating  the  laws  of  his  physi- 
cal nature.  He  is  secretly  destroying  himself !  By 
sinning  against  his  own  body,  he  is  preparing  him- 
self for  the  insane  asylum,  or  for  an  early  grave. 


120  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

Yet,  say  his  unconscious  and  admiring  friends,  "  He 
is  falling  a  victim  to  his  own  diligence ! "  Most 
lame  and  impotent  conclusion  !  He  is  sapping  the 
source  of  life  with  his  own  guilty  hands,  and  ere 
long  will  be  a  mind  in  ruins  or  a  heap  of  dust ! 
Young  man,  beware  of  his  example !  "  Keep 
thyself  pure ; "  observe  the  laws  of  your  physical 
nature,  and  the  most  unrelaxing  industry  will  never 
rob  you  of  a  moment's  health,  nor  in  the  smallest 
measure  shorten  the  thread  of  your  life ;  for  indus- 
try and  health  are  companions,  and  long  life  is  the 
heritage  of  diligence. 

Behold  a  cottage  at  the  foot  of  yonder  mountain ! 
On  its  broken  gate  sits  a  lifeless-looking  man,  with 
an  unstrung  bow  lying  across  his  knees,  and  a  quiver 
of  arrows  strung  across  his  shoulders.  A  deer,  with 
its  delicate  young  fawn,  comes  lightly  tripping  from 
among  the  foliage  which  adorns  the  mountain  slope. 
Lifting  up  his  heavy  eyes,  the  hunter  perceives  his 
prey,  and,  for  a  moment,  kindles  into  something  like 
an  earnest  man.  Leaping  from  the  gate,  he  strains 
his  bow,  fixes  an  arrow  on  its  string,  and  gliding 


INDUSTRY   THE    HIGHWAY    TO   SUCCESS.  121 

from  tree  to  bush  and  from  bush  to  tree,  approaches 
the  unwatchful  deer;  then  drawing  his  bow,  he 
lodges  an  arrow  in  the  heart  of  the  fawn.  Seating 
himself  beside  it,  he  triumphs  a  while  in  his  suc- 
cess ;  and  then,  seeking  the  shadow  of  an  adjacent 
tree,  slumbers  away  the  day,  and  permits  the  burn- 
ing sun  to  spoil  his  vension  ! 

Such  is  the  picture  of  an  idle  man,  as  sketched  by 
Solomon,  in  these  words :  "  The  slothful  man  roast- 
eth  not  that  which  he  took  in  hunting"  I  have  filled 
up  his  slender  outline,  that  the  young  man  may 
study  it  to  better  advantage ;  for  in  this  instance, 
at  least,  the  poetic  sentiment  is  literally  true,  that 
the  monstrous  spectacle  of  vice  is  sufficient  to  excite 
disgust.  I  greatly  misjudge  the  reader,  if  he  does 
not  heartily  despise  the  idle  hunter  in  the  above 
etching  :  if  he  will  transfer  his  scorn  to  the  vice  the 
hunter  personates,  my  end  will  be  accomplished. 

To  be  above  the  necessity  of  labor, — to  spend  life 
in  doing  nothing,  —  is  the  fancied  paradise  of  many 
youthful  minds.  Yielding  to  these  illusive  dreams, 
they  cultivate  a  hatred  for  labor;  they  view  the 


122  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

necessity  which  binds  them  to  the  counting-room  or 
the  workshop  as  the  galley-slave  regards  his  chain. 
They  envy  every  gay  son  of  pleasure  whose  empty 
laugh  is  heard  ringing  through  the  street.  Hence 
their  labor  is  irksome  —  their  temper  sour  and  repul- 
sive. Their  manners  become  insulting  and  vexatious 
to  their  employers ;  their  incessant  complainings  an- 
noy their  parents,  and  misery  spreads  throughout  the 
entire  circle  of  their  influence.  Thousands  of  par- 
ental hearts  are  aching  at  this  moment,  and  thou- 
sands of  employers  are  unhappy  with  their  appren- 
tices, solely  from  this  foolish,  guilty  aspiration  after 
nothing  to  do  which  haunts  the  imaginations  of  so 
many  young  men. 

But  why  do  young  men  pant  after  an  idle  life  ? 
It  is  because  they  are  wilfully  ignorant  of  the  import- 
ant practical  truth,  that  THE  CREATOR  COULD  HARDLY 

INFLICT  A  GREATER  CURSE  UPON  A  YOUNG  MAN  THAN 
TO  DOOM  HIM  TO  A  LIFE  OF  IDLENESS  !  It  WOUld 

destroy  him,  soul  and  body.  What  is  a  mind  when 
controlled  by  idleness  ?  Let  the  admired  Tennyson 
reply.  Personating  an  idle  m/nd,  he  says : 


INDUSTRY   THE    HIGHWAY   TO   SUCCESS.  123 

11  A  spot  of  dull  stagnation,  without  light 

Or  power  of  movement,  seemed  my  soul, 
Mid  onward  sloping  motions  of  the  infinite, 
Making  for  one  sure  goal. 

"  A  still  salt  pool,  locked  in  with  bars  of  sand ; 

Left  on  the  shore  ;  that  hears  all  night 
The  plunging  seas  draw  backward  from  the  land 
Their  moon-led  waters  white. 

"  A  star  that  with  the  choral  starry  dance 

Joined  not,  but  stood,  and  standing  saw 
The  hollow  orb  of  moving  circumstance 
Rolled  round  by  one  fixed  law." 

If  you  are  ambitious  to  be  "  a  spot  of  dull  stagna- 
tion," "  a  still  salt  pool,"  or  a  motionless  star,  be  idle, 
and  you  shall  assuredly  reach  the  limit  of  your  am- 
bition. But  oh,  it  is  a  costly  price  to  pay  for  idle- 
ness !  Nor  is  the  intellect  the  only  sufferer.  The 
heart,  the  moral  character,  and  even  the  physi- 
cal man,  share  in  the  dreadful  curse.  The  heart  of 
an  idle  man  is  an  open  common,  inviting  the  pres- 
ence of  every  odious  vice,  which  enters  in,  and 
makes  it  utterly  loathsome.  Instead  of  waiting  to 
be  tempted,  it  "  positively  tempts  the  devil ;"  and 
while  "  the  busy  man  is  troubled  with  but  one  devil, 


124  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

the  idle  man  is  visited  by  a  thousand."  Idleness 
first  draws  its  victim  from  honorable  labors,  and  then 
whips  him  into  theatres,  cafes,  gambling  saloons, 
and  darker  dens  of  infamy.  It  denudes  him  of  all 
moral  beauty  and  excellency,  strips  him  of  self- 
respect,  plunges  him  into  ruin,  disease  and  degra- 
dation ;  having  bound  him  hand  and  foot,  it  plunges 
his  body  into  an  unhonored  grave,  and  consigns  his 
soul  to  "  everlasting  destruction  from  the  presence  of 
the,  Lord,  and  from  the  glory  of  his  power"  Well 
hath  Holy  Writ  described  the  ruin  of  the  indolent 
man !  He  began  by  hating  labor,  and  crying,  "  Yet  a 
little  sleep,  a  little  slumber,  a  little  folding  of  the 
hands  to  sleep"  The  first  visible  effect  of  his  sloth 
was  seen  in  his  field  and  vineyard,  "  which  was  all 
grown  over  with  thorns,  and  nettles  had  covered  the, 
face  thereof,  and  the  stone  wall  thereof  was  broken 
down."  Unalarmed  by  this  growing  desolation,  the 
sluggard  maintained  his  hatred  of  toil,  until,  as  the 
stroke  of  war  falls  upon  an  unsuspecting  hamlet,  or 
a  traveller,  long  on  the  way,  arrives  at  last,  so 


INDUSTRY   THE    HIGHWAY   TO   SUCCESS.  125 

poverty  and  want  overwhelmed  him  in  irretrievable 
destruction. 

Perhaps  my  reader  replies  to  this  deeply  shaded 
scene,  that  such  ruin  is  an  extreme  case,  and  not 
likely  to  occur  to  young  men  generally.  True,  it  is 
extreme ;  but  it  is  equally  true  that  vast  numbers  of 
young  men  annually  sink  thus  from  positions  of 
high  promise  into  utter  abandonment  and  destruc- 
tion. But  admit  that  the  idle  youth  so  trims  be- 
tween sloth  and  industry  as  to  avoid  utter  ruin,  — 
what  then?  He  lives  a  useless,  insignificant  life. 
His  place  in  society  is  aptly  illustrated  by  certain 
books  in  a  Boston  library,  which  are  lettered  "  Suc- 
cedaneum  "  on  their  backs.  "  Succedaneum  ! "  ex- 
claims the  visiter ;  "  what  sort  of  a  book  is  that  ?  " 
Down  it  comes ;  when  lo  !  a  wooden  block,  shaped 
just  like  a  book,  is  in  his  hands.  Then  he  under- 
stands the  meaning  of  the  occult  title  to  be,  "  In  the 
place  of  another ;  "  and  that  the  wooden  book  is  used 
to  fill  vacant  places,  and  to  keep  genuine  volumes 
from  falling  into  confusion.  Such  is  an  idler  in 
society.  A  man  in  form,  but  a  block  in  fact.  Liv- 


126  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

ing  for  no  high  end,  giving  out  no  instruction  —  a 
dumb,  despised  "  Succedaneum "  among  mankind. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Behold  such  a  man  drawing 
nigh  to  the  end  of  his  existence !  His  pampered  and 
slothful  body  is  tossing  upon  an  uneasy  bed.  His 
pale  face  betokens  his  approach  to  the  hour  of  final 
conflict.  His  life  now  passes  in  sad  review  before 
his  closing  eyes  !  How  like  a  desert  waste  it  looks  ! 
Vainly  he  searches  for  some  solitary  sign  that  he 
has  not  Hved  in  vain.  Nought  but  the  dead  level 
of  a  sandy  plain  appears.  Groaning  with  anguish, 
he  cries  out : 

"  My  life  has  been  as  the  passage  of  a  ship  over 
the  ocean !  —  as  the  journey  of  a  pilgrim  across  a 
desert !  Not  a  token  of  my  industry,  not  a  trace  of 
my  footsteps  !  No !  no  more  than  if  my  mother  had 
not  borne  me  !  " 

And  with  this  melancholy  utterance,  he  trembles, 
shudders,  and  expires ! 

And  now,  young  man,  having  said  enough  to 
convince  you  that  your  highest  interests  require  of 
you  a  life  of  cheerful  labor,  I  demand  your  solemn 


INDUSTRY   THE    HIGHWAY   TO   SUCCESS.  127 

resolve  to  become  a  true  son  of  industry.  I  know 
all  the  witcheries  of  those  things  which  incline  you 
to  idleness ;  the  strength  of  the  tendency  to  sloth  in 
your  own  breast,  and  the  many  failures  at  self- 
conquest  which  are  recorded  in  your  past  history. 
But  I  also  know,  that  if  you  will  seek  the  aids  of 
religion,  they  will  prove  sufficient  for  your  utmost 
needs.  Eeligion  will  teach  you  that  industry  is  a 
SOLEMN  DUTY  you  owe  to  God,  whose  command  is,  Be 
"  DILIGENT  IN  BUSINESS  !  "  Who  says  of  every  dis- 
ciple of  his  Son,  "  Let  him  labor,  working  with  his 
hands  the  thing  which  is  good,  that  he  may  have  to 
give  to  him  that  needeth."  Religion  will  shed  lustre 
upon  your  meanest  toils,  by  converting  them  into  so 
many  acts  of  service  to  Almighty  God.  It  will  cheer 
your  labors  with  beams  of  beauty  and  glory,  from 
those  realms  of  eternal  rest  where  employment  will 
be  unaccompanied  by  toil.  It  will  fill  your  soul  with 
contentment  and  joy,  submission  and  hope ;  and  arm 
you  with  strength  to  "  come  off  more  than  conqueror  " 
over  all  foes  to  industry  and  purity,  "  through  Christ 
who  loved  you,  and  gave  himself  for  you."  The 


128  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

burdens  of  life  thus  lightened  of  their  weight,  you 
shall  endure  them,  cheerfully,  so  that,  whenever  you 
fall  in  the  embrace  of  death,  it  may  be  said  of  you, 
in  the  words  of  Aldich  : 

"  His  sufferings  ended  with  the  day, 

Yet  lived  he  at  its  close  ; 
And  breathed  the  long,  long  night  away 
In  statue-like  repose. 

"  But  when  the  sun,  in  all  his  state, 

Illumed  the  eastern  skies, 
He  passed  through  glory's  morning  gate, 
And  walked  in  Paradise." 


CHAPTEE  YH. 

ECONOMY  AND  TACT. 

S  the  acquisition  of  knowledge 
1  depends  more  upon  what  a  man 
remembers  than  upon  the  quan- 
tity of  his  reading,  so  the  acqui- 
sition  of  property  depends  more 
upon  what  is  saved  than  upon 
what  is  earned.  The  largest  reservoirs, 
though  fed  by  abundant  and  living 
springs,  will  fail  to  supply  their  owners 
,with  water,  if  secret  leaking-places  are  per- 
mitted to  drain  off  their  contents.  In  like 
manner,  though  by  his  skill  and  energy  a 
man  may  convert  his  business  into  a  flowing  Pac- 
tolus,  ever  depositing  its  golden  sands  in  his  coffers, 
yet,  through  the  numerous  wastes  of  unfrugal  habits, 
he  may  live  embarrassed  and  die  poor.  Economy  is 
9 


130  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

the  guardian  of  property  —  the  good  genius  whose 
presence  guides  the  footsteps  of  every  prosperous  and 
successful  man. 

Economy  is  a  trite  and  forbidding  theme.  The 
young  man  will  feel  tempted  to  pass  it  by,  and  pro- 
ceed to  the  next  chapter.  But  I  beseech  him  to  read 
on,  since  his  social  advancement  depends,  in  a  good 
degree,  upon  his  frugality.  He  had  better  be  doomed, 
like  the  sons  of  ancient  Jacob  in  Egypt,  to  make 
bricks  without  straw,  than  to  enter  the  scenes  of 
active  life  without  economy  for  a  companion.  Study 
well,  therefore,  young  man,  the  following  picture  : 

KALPH  MONTCALM  is  a  merchant's  clerk,  enjoying 
a  fair  salary.  His  age  is  about  twenty-two;  his 
appearance  is  genteel,  without  foppishness ;  his  man- 
ners are  gentlemanly  and  polite,  without  affectation. 
By  strict  fidelity  to  the  duties  of  his  station,  he  has 
gained  a  high  reputation  for  industry,  energy,  and 
integrity.  He  is  also  understood  to  be  worth  a  few 
hundred  dollars,  which  he  has  invested  with  great 
caution  and  judgment,  where  it  will  yield  him  a  safe 


ECONOMY    AND   TACT.  131 

and  profitable  return.  The  general  impression  con- 
cerning him,  among  the  merchants  in  his  vicinity,  is, 
that  he  will  one  day  be  a  man  of  some  importance 
in  society.  A  shrewd  business  man  remarked,  one 
day,  to  his  employer  :  "  Your  clerk  has  the  elements 
of  a  successful  merchant." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  Ralph  is  destined  to  wield  considerable 
influence,  c  on  change,'  one  of  these  days  ;  and  being 
very  economical  in  his  habits,  he  can  hardly  fail  of 
becoming  a  rich  man." 

Such  was  the  reply  of  Ralph's  master.  It  showed 
that  the  clerk  was  acting  on  those  principles  which, 
in  the  estimation  of  experienced  men,  insure  success. 
Yet  Ralph's  conduct  found  no  sympathy  from  the 
fashionable  disciples  of  dandyism,  who  filled  situa- 
tions similar  to  his  own,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  fol- 
lowing conversations. 

Ralph  was  walking  home,  one  evening,  from  his 
counting-room,  when  a  fellow-clerk,  who  was  quite 
an  exquisite  in  his  own  estimation,  overtook  him. 
He  was  puffing  a  cigar  after  the  most  approved  fash- 


132  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

ion.  Stepping  up  to  Ralph,  he  touched  him  on  the 
arm  and  said : 

"  Good-evening,  Mr.  Montcalm  !  " 

"  Good-evening,  sir  !  "  replied  Ralph  to  this  salu- 
tation ;  a  few  common-places  passed  between  them, 
and  then  the  dandy,  taking  out  his  case  of  Havanas, 
said  : 

"  Will  you  take  a  cigar  with  me,  Mr.  Montcalm  ? " 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  but  I  never  smoke  ! "  replied 
Ralph,  with  an  emphasis  which  left  no  room  for  per- 
suasion. 

"  Never  smoke  ! "  exclaimed  the  astonished  dandy, 
replacing  the  cigar-case  in  his  pocket.  "What  on 
earth  can  induce  you  to  deny  yourself  so  delicious  a 
luxury  ? " 

"It  is  a  luxury  that  costs  too  much,  sir,  for  me  to 
indulge  in  it.  I  really  cannot  afford  it." 

"0,  I  see,"  retorted  the  smoker,  as  he  puffed 
forth  an  enormous  column  of  smoke  from  his  steam- 
ing mouth;  "you  belong  to  the  race  of  misers,  and 
are  set  on  saving  your  money,  instead  of  enjoying 
life  as  it  passes.  For  my  part,  1  despise  all  such 


ECONOMY    AND    TACT.  133 

stinginess,  and  calculate  to  enjoy  all  the  pleasure 
money  will  buy." 

Ralph  took  no  notice  of  his  companion's  impolite 
insinuations,  but  in  a  kindly  tone  answered  :  "  The 
use  of  tobacco,  in  every  form,  is  positively  injurious 
to  health  and  intellect ;  as  a  habit,  it  is  filthy, 
vulgar,  and  disgusting,  to  all  but  those  who  use  it. 
Besides  this,  it  makes  a  heavy  and  constant  drain  on 
the  purse.  I  confess,  I  am  too  stingy  to  pay  so  high 
a  price  for  a  luxury  which  would  shorten  my  life, 
fill  me  with  disease,  and  render  me  disgusting  to 
others.  I  would  rather  save  my  money  for  high 
and  noble  uses." 

This  sensible  reply  was  too  much  for  the  smoker 
to  endure.  He  therefore  gruffly  replied :  "  You  talk 
more  like  a  Puritan  than  a  gentleman  ;"  and  hurried 
forward,  leaving  Ralph  to  his  reflections,  which  were 
certainly  more  agreeable  than  the  company  of  such 
an  empty -brained  exquisite. 

On  another  occasion,  he  was  thrown  into  the 
society  of  another  of  these  contemptible  children  of 


134  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR 

fashion,  who,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  inquired, 
"  Where  do  you  board,  Mr.  Montcalm  ? " 

"  At  Mrs.  Brown's,  in  G Street." 

"  Indeed !  How  can  you  think  of  boarding  in  such 
an  unfashionable  street  ? " 

"  It  is  my  fashion  to  seek  respectability,  comfort, 
cleanliness  and  purity,  in  my  home  ;  and  all  these  1 
have  at  Mrs.  Brown's." 

"  That  may  be ;  but  G Street  is  such  an 

unfashionable  street !  —  and  Mrs.  Brown  is  a  poor 
woman." 

"  Very  true,  but  still  I  find  genuine  comfort,  abun- 
dant food,  and  amiable  society,  at  her  house ;  and  at 
a  price  which  I  can  well  afford  to  pay.  What,  then, 
should  I  gain  by  going  up  town  to  one  of  your  fash- 
ionable houses  ?  What  do  you  pay,  where  you 
board  ? " 

"  I  pay  rather  high,  in  proportion  to  my  salary, 
to  be  sure.  My  board  costs  me  six  dollars  a  week. 
But  then  everything  is  in  style ;  the  boarders  are  all 
fashionable  young  men,  and  I  get  into  some  of  the 
highest  society  in  the  city  through  their  influence 


ECONOMY   AND   TACT.  135 

besides  gaining  the  reputation  of  being  fashionable 
myself." 

"  But  how  do  you  manage  to  meet  all  your  expen- 
ses ?  Your  salary  is  only  five  hundred  dollars  per 
annum.  You  pay  over  three  hundred  dollars  for 
board.  Your  other  expenses  are  in  proportion.  I 
do  not  see  how  you  can  ever  expect  to  rise  above 
your  clerkship,  or  even  to  marry,  without  saving 
something  for  capital ;  and  saving,  according  to  your 
statements,  is  out  of  the  question." 

"  Saving !  Don't  talk  of  saving,  Mr.  Montcalm  ! 
I  should  be  very  happy  to  be  out  of  debt.  As  to 
business  or  marriage,  I  dare  not  think  of  either, 
unless  some  good-natured  merchant  should  be  foolish 
enough  ,o  make  me  his  partner." 

"  Yod  may  well  say  foolish  ;  for,  who  but  a  '  good- 
naturf  d  fool'  would  dream  of  taking  you,  or  any  other 
slave  of  fashionable  life,  into  partnership  ?  For  my- 
self, I  intend  both  to  marry  and  to  enter  into  busi- 
ness, at  a  proper  time ;  hence,  I  cannot  afford  to  be  a 
fashionable  young  man.  It  costs  too  much.  I  pre- 
fer the  real  comfort  of  a  respectable  home,  and  the 


136  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

gains  of  frugality,  to  the  ruinous  reputation  of  being 
1  a  man  of  fashion.'  I  wish  you  good-morning,  sir." 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Montcalm,"  replied  the  fash- 
ionable young  gentleman;  and  they  parted,  the 
former  to  mount  the  path  of  honor,  the  latter  to  flut- 
ter a  while,  like  a  stupid  moth,  around  the  lamp  of 
fashion,  to  burn  his  wings,  and  then  to  crawl  in 
obscurity  to  an  unhonored  grave. 

The  reader  must  view  Ralph  Montcalm  in  yet 
another  scene.  It  is  laid  in  the  counting-room  of  a 
merchant,  with  whom  Ralph  had  been  transacting 
some  business  in  his  employer's  behalf.  Just  before 
he  left,  a  gentleman  entered  on  an  errand  of  benevo- 
lence. A  poor  family,  in  very  destitute  circumstances, 
needed  aid  to  keep  them  from  starvation.  So  stated 
the  visiter,  and  then  he  asked : 

"  Gentlemen,  what  will  you  give  ?  " 

"  Too  poor  to  give  !  "  one  of  the  clerks  abruptly 
replied.  He  was  well  known  for  his  love  of  driving 
a  la  tandem  along  the  city  avenues. 

"  It  costs  me  so  much  to  live,  I  can't  give  any- 


ECONOMY    AND    TACT.  137 

thing ! "  said  another,  whose  very  costly  and  fash- 
ionable attire  placed  his  statement  above  suspicion. 

"  Have  n't  a  dollar  to  spare  !  "  bluntly  responded  a 
third,  who  was  remarkable  for  being  almost  buried 
under  a  load  of  debts. 

"  Put  me  down  two  dollars,"  said  Ralph,  in  a  half 
whisper,  to  the  collector,  as  he  quietly  handed  him 
that  amount. 

"  How  is  it  that  you  can  afford  to  give  to  every  one 
that  asks  ?  Your  salary  is  no  larger  than  ours,  and 
yet  we  can  hardly  pay  our  bills.  Giving,  with  us,  is 
out  of  the  question,"  said  the  chief  clerk  to  Ralph. 

Ralph  smiled,  and  replied  :  "  Gentlemen,  the  diffi- 
culty is  easily  solved.  You  live  high;  I  live  moder- 
ately. You  are  extravagant;  I  economize.  You 
wear  the  costliest  clothing,  and  follow  every  chang- 
ing fashion ;  I  dress  respectably,  and  avoid  extremes. 
You  spend  large  sums  per  annum  on  cigars,  wines, 
riding,  theatres,  operas,  balls  and  costly  suppers ;  1 
deny  myself  these  indulgences,  partly  because  of 
their  cost,  and  partly  because  of  their  immoral  ten- 
dencies. My  pleasures  are  intellectual ;  they  afford 


138  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

me  higher  and  purer  enjoyment  than  yours,  and  cost 
much  less.  Hence,  while  you  are  poor,  I  have 
money  invested,  and  something  to  spare  to  alleviate 
the  sorrows  of  others.  Good-morning,  gentlemen." 

Such  is  the  example  of  economy  which  I  desire  to 
urge  upon  you,  young  man,  for  your  imitation.  Not 
a  miserly  meanness,  which  denies  itself  the  common 
comforts  of  life,  and  shuts  itself  within  walls  of  triple 
steel  against  the  appeals  of  benevolence ;  but  such 
a  manly,  generous  habit  of  expending  your  resources 
as  will  tend  to  improve  your  condition,  without  de- 
basing your  nature,  —  to  make  you  a  man  of  prop- 
erty, without  sinking  you  to  the  sordid  level  of  a 
miser.  The  principles,  which  make  such  admirable 
economists  as  young  Ralph  Montcalm,  are : 

1.  ALWAYS  LET  YOUR  EXPENDITURE  BE  LESS  THAN 
YOUR  INCOME.  This  is  the  grand  element  of  success 
in  acquiring  property.  To  carry  it  out,  requires  res- 
olution, self-denial,  self-reliance.  But  it  must  be 
done,  or  you  must  be  a  poor  man  all  through  life.  If 
for  example,  your  income  is  six  dollars  a  week,  you 


ECONOMY    AND    TACT.  139 

must  live  on  five,  or  four,  if  you  can  with  decency. 
But,  further : 

2.  LITTLE  EXPENSES  MUST  BE  CAREFULLY  GUARDED 
AGAINST.  I  once  saw  a  full-grown  caterpillar  borne 
along  the  garden  path  by  an  army  of  tiny  ants,  which 
had  made  him  their  captive ;  at  another  time,  I  saw 
an  insect,  somewhat  resembling  a  dragon-fly,  bearing 
off  a  caterpillar  by  his  own  unaided  strength.  In 
both  cases,  the  victim  perished ;  and  it  made  little 
difference  whether  he  was  in  the  hands  of  a  single 
dragon-fly,  or  of  an  army  of  ants.  Thus,  many  little 
expenses  are  as  fatal  to  a  young  man's  prosperity  as 
a  great  speculation  which  ruins  at  a  single  blow. 
The  former  will  as  surely  bear  him  to  the  grave  of 
poverty  as  the  latter.  Hence,  the  pence  so  foolishly 
spent  on  cigars,  confectionary,  fruit,  ice-creams,  soda, 
water,  &c.,  must  be  retained  in  the  purse  of  the 
young  man  who  intends  to  take  rank  in  respectable 
society.  If  they  escape,  they  will,  in  spite  of  all  hia 
resistance,  be  like  the  ant-army,  and  will  bear  him 
to  a  pauper's  grave.  Deny  thyself,  in  little  as  in 
great  things,  is  a  necessary  condition  of  prosperity. 


140  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

3.  AVOID  THE  HABIT  OF  GETTING  INTO  DEBT.     At- 
tention to  the  above  maxims  will  make  the  observ- 
ance of  this  one  easy.    Still,  there  is,  to  some  minds, 
such  a  fascination  in  the  act  of  buying  on  credit,  that 
they  will  do  it  even  when  they  have  cash  in  their 
pockets.     You  must  avoid  this  practice  f     Pay  for 
what  you  purchase, at  least  until  you  begin  business; 
and  then  buy  very  cautiously,  and  you  will  rarely 
buy  what  you  do  not  need.     To  be  in  debt,  is  to  be 
enslaved  ;  it  is  a  prolific  source  of  care ;  an  occasion 
of  temptation  to  extravagance ;  it  often  leads  to  false- 
hood,  dishonesty,  gambling,  destruction.     Debt  de- 
stroys  more   than   the   cholera.     Therefore,   young 
man,  avoid  debt ! 

4.  AVOID  LITTLENESS.     You  saw  Ralph  Montcalm 
ready  to  give  to  the  poor.     You  must  do  the  same> 
if  not  from  pure  benevolence  of  feeling,  at  least  "ou< 
of  regard  for  yourself.      Strict  economy  may  lapse 
into  sordid  covetousness,  and  make  the  frugal  man 
contemptibly  mean.     I  have  been  told  of  a  wealthy 
farmer,  a  professor  of  religion,  who  invited  a  student, 
just  licensed  to  preach,  to  stay  at  his  house  during  a 


ECONOMY    AND   TACT.  141 

series  of  religious  meetings  he  was  conducting  in  the 
neighborhood.  When  the  young  preacher  was  about 
to  leave,  the  farmer  accompanied  him  to  the  gate, 
expressing  great  pleasure  for  his  visit  and  labors. 

Just  before  they  parted,  he  said,  "  Mr. ,  I  should 

like  to  make  you  a  small  present." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir !  "  said  the  young  student,  bow- 
ing acquiescence  to  the  welcome  suggestion. 

The  farmer  then  took  a  twenty-five  cent  coin 
from  his  pocket,  and  said :  "  This  is  the  smallest 
change  I  have.  If  you  will  give  me  twelve  and  a 
half  cents  in  change,  you  may  keep  the  rest !  " 

"  I  have  no  silver  about  me,"  replied  the  student 
as  he  leaped  on  to  his  horse,  scarcely  able  to  conceal 
the  combined  emotions  of  indignation  and  merriment 
which  struggled  within  him  for  expression. 

If  this  fact  had  not  been  related  in  my  hearing  by 
the  aforesaid  student,  I  could  hardly  have  believed 
that  any  man  could  have  acted  with  such  contempti- 
ble littleness  as  that  farmer ;  yet  such  is  the  mean- 
ness of  spir.t  which  will  grow  upon  the  man  whose 
economy  is  not  joined  to  some  form  of  benevolent 


142  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

action.  Therefore,  I  repeat  the  injunction,  —  avoid 
littleness,  by  carefully  cultivating  a  generous  philan- 
thropic spirit,  amidst  all  your  plans  of  frugality. 

There  is  another  element  of  success  which  is 
worthy  of  a  few  thoughts.  I  mean  tact,  or  versa- 
tility—  a  power  of  self-adaptation  to  every  new 
opening  of  Providence.  A  man  of  tact  immediately 
fills  a  new  position  with  naturalness,  and,  however 
he  himself  may  feel  its  embarrassments,  he  forces 
the  impression  upon  others,  that  he  is  just  the  man 
for  the  place.  On  the  other  hand,  without  tact,  a 
man  is  impracticable.  Change  hi?  sphere,  and  he 
acts  stiffly,  awkwardly;  he  is  like  a  stiff-jointed 
country  recruit  at  his  first  drill ;  so  uncouth  are  his 
movements,  that  lookers-on  exclaim,  "  He  will  never 
do  !  "  Hence,  his  friends  lose  their  interest  in  his 
advancement.  They  fear  to  advance  him,  lest  his 
clownishness  should  mortify  their  pride.  He  is  left 
to  pine  in  the  obscurity  of  a  lowly  position. 

But  tact  is  the  gift  of  nature !  Yes !  to  some 
extent  it  is  so.  Versatility  is  easier  to  some  than  to 
others.  That  is,  it  requires  less  effort  in  some  than 


ECONOMY    AND   TACT.  143 

in  others,  to  adapt  themselves  to  new  relations  to 
society.  But  even  the  versatility  of  the  proudest 
sons  of  genius  is  the  offspring  of  self-culture.  The 
man  who  shines  in  an  exalted  position,  who  appears 
in  it  at  such  perfect  ease  that  one  might  infer  he 
was  born  to  fill  it,  has  gained  the  confidence  which 
inspires  him  with  ease  by  previous  self-cultivation. 
A  man  who  is  true  to  himself  is  always  in  advance 
of  his  actual  position ;  hence,  when  called  to  higher 
posts,  he  moves  into  them  and  fills  them  with  pro- 
priety and  dignity.  This  is  tact.  And  the  mental 
training  which  creates  tact  is  within  the  reach  of 
every  young  man. 

But  what  has  religion  to  do  with  these  elements 
of  success  in  life?  It  might  as  properly  be  asked, 
what  has  an  anchor  to  do  with  the  safety  of  a  ship  ? 
For,  as  the  latter  is  held  at  a  secure  distance  from 
the  shore,  notwithstanding  the  driving  gale,  so  is  a 
young  man  bound  to  the  practice  of  economy  and 
the  cultivation  of  tact  by  the  authoritative  claims  of 
religion.  Pride,  sensuality,  and  custom,  are  like 
strong  winds  beating  life's  young  voyager  upon  the 


144  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

rocks  of  prodigality,  or  the  quicksands  of  extrava- 
gance. Religion  anchors  him  fast,  by  her  strong 
principles.  She  exacts  diligence,  industry,  honesty, 
by  her  precepts ;  she  pictures  the  desolation  of  the 
spendthrift  by  her  inimitable  drawing  of  the  Prodi- 
gal Son;  she  checks  waste  by  teaching  the  doc- 
trine of  accountability  to  God  for  all  we  possess ; 
thundering  in  every  ear  her  call  of  "  Give  an 
account  of  thy  stewardship  !  "  Concerning  the  duty 
of  fitting  one's  self  to  fill  his  station  with  honor,  the 
precept  of  Paul  to  Timothy  is  apposite  :  "  Study 
to  show  thyself  approved  unto  God,  a  workman  that 
needeth  not  to  be  ashamed ;"  and  again,  "  Give 
thyself  wholly  "  to  the  duties  of  thy  vocation,  "  that 
thy  profiting  may  appear  to  all.'"  This  exhorta- 
tion, self-applied  by  every  young  man,  would  con- 
stitute him,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  a  man  of 
tact. 

Thus  does  religion  in  the  soul  give  vigor  and 
fruitfulness  to  every  element  of  prosperity  in  human 
character.  Viewed  in  all  its  aspects,  it  justifies  the 
beautiful  figure  of  the  good  man  in  the  song  of  the 


ECONOMY    AND    TACT.  145 

royal  psalmist :  "He  shall  be  like  a  tree  planted  by 
the  rivers  of  water,  that  bringeth  forth  his  fruit  in 
his  season :   his   leaf    also  shall   not  wither ;    and 
whatsoever  he  doeth  slwll  prosper.11 
10 


CHAPTER  yni. 

HARMONY  OF  CHARACTER. 

HE    ABBE    MENNAIS    has   made 
this  beautiful  remark :  that  "  from 
the  sun,  whence  pour  inexhausti- 
ble floods  of  light  and  life,  down 
to  the  spring  that  drop  by  drop  ex- 
udes from  the  rock,  all  is  ordered  for 
a  given  end,  to  which  all  contribute  in 
an  infinite  variety  of  ways,  that  are  the 
more  admired  the  more  they  are  con- 
templated.    There  is  not  an  action,  a  move- 
ment, in  the  universe,  that  does  not  succes- 
sively contribute  to  the  growth  of  a  tuft  of 
moss." 

In  this  harmony  of  nature  —  a  harmony  so  com- 
plete and  so  necessary,  that  the  failure  of  any  one 
operation  in  the  universe  would  neutralize  the  action 
of  all  the  rest,  and  denude  the  earth  of  its  beauty 


HARMONY    OF    CHARACTER.  147 

and  adornment,  —  we  may  learn  a  profitable  lesson  in 
relation  to  the  influence  of  character  upon  success 
In  the  preceding  chapters,  I  have  presented  various 
elements  of  character  in  their  relation  to  a  prosper- 
ous life.  They  have  been  treated  separately ;  and, 
lest  the  reader  should  fall  into  the  blunder  of  sup- 
posing that  any  one  of  them  can  singly  lead  to  suc- 
cess, I  wish  to  say  with  emphasis,  that  as  in  the 
operations  of  nature,  so  in  the  conflicts  of  life,  the 
effect  of  great  success  is  produced  by  the  harmoni- 
ous combination  of  each  and  every  valuable  quality. 
The  absence  of  one  qualification  may  hinder  the 
productiveness  of  all  the  rest;  the  excess  of  another 
may  undo  all  that  the  proper  action  of  the  rest  had 
accomplished.  For  example,  let  a  young  man  be 
industrious,  versatile,  energetic,  intelligent,  and  yet 
lack  integrity,  what  becomes  of  his  prosperity  ?  He 
may  acquire  wealth  by  dishonest  means,  but  he  must 
live  without  the  confidence  of  good  men,  and  die  "  as 
the  fool  dieth."  Or,  suppose  him  to  have  integrity, 
intelligence,  industry,  economy,  and  to  be  defective 
in  energy ;  he  will  sink,  in  spite  of  all  his  high  qual- 


148  IOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

ifications,  beneath  the  obstacles  which  lie  in  every 
man's  path  to  eminence.  Or,  again,  let  him  have 
an  excess  of  energy,  he  will  be  rash  and  fall  into 
irretrievable  ruin ;  let  him  be  excessively  frugal,  and 
he  will  become  a  miser ;  let  him  be  over  versatile, 
he  will  be  the  "rolling  stone  which  gathers  no 
moss ;"  an  excessive  attachment  to  letters  will  con- 
vert him  into  a  theorist  or  a  book-worm.  Thus,  it 
is  apparent,  that,  to  insure  success,  a  young  man 
must  diligently  attain  and  prudently  cultivate  all 
those  particular  excellences,  which,  when  possessed 
in  combination,  make  a  failure  next  to  impossible. 

What  reader  of  Holy  Scripture  has  not  felt  a  most 
tender  regard  for  that  interesting  youth,  who,  in  all 
the  eagerness  of  self-confidence,  stood  complacently 
before  the  great  Teacher  and  asked  : 

"  Good  Master,  what  shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal 
life  ?  " 

With  what  elation  of  soul  did  that  young  self- 
deceiver  listen  to  the  reply  of  the  great  heart-search- 
er:  "If  thou  wilt  enter  into  life,  keep  the  command- 
ments !  " 


HARMONY   OF    CHARACTER.  149 

Exulting  in  his  fancied  triumph,  the  young  man 
replied  :  "All  these  have  I  kept  from  my  youth  up  ! 
What  lack  I  yet  ?" 

By  one  stroke  —  a  stroke  severely  kind  —  the  .Re- 
deemer prostrated  all  his  hopes :  "  YET  LACKEST 
THOIT  ONE  THING  ! "  And  then  he  gave  him  a  prac- 
tical test,  which  at  once  unfolded  his  true  state  to 
his  startled  mind,  and  convinced  him  that,  however 
externally  spotless  he  might  be,  his  heart  was  su- 
premely selfish.  He  lacked  that  self-devotion  to  the 
glory  of  God  which  is  the  essence  of  all  true  relig- 
ion —  a  lack  that  neutralized  all  his  excellences,  and 
was  fatal  to  his  confidence  in  the  Divine  favor. 

Young  man,  you  may,  in  like  manner,  fail  of  true 
greatness  through  one  fatal  deficiency,  and  be 
ranked  with  the  men  so  fitly  described  by  the  great 
English  bard  :  — 

"Men 

Carrying,  I  say,  the  stamp  of  one  defect, 
Their  virtues  else  (be  they  as  pure  as  grace, 
As  infinite  as  man  may  undergo) 
Shall  in  the  general  censure  take  corruption 
From  that  particular  fault." 


150  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

LORD  BYRON'S  history  furnishes  a  most  painful 
example  of  the  ruin  resulting  from  the  want  of  sym- 
metry in  character.  To  use  the  splendid  diction  of 
MACAULAY,  "  He  was  bom  to  all  men  covet  and 
admire.  But  in  every  one  of  those  eminent  advan- 
tages which  he  possessed  over  others  there  was 
mingled  something  of  misery  and  debasement.  He 
was  sprung  from  a  house,  ancient  indeed,  and  noble, 
but  degraded  and  impoverished  by  a  series  of  crimes 
and  follies.  The  young  peer  had  great  intellectual 
powers ;  yet  there  was  an  unsound  part  in  his  mind. 
He  had  naturally  a  generous  and  tender  heart ;  but 
his  temper  was  wayward  and  irritable.  He  had  a 
head  which  statuaries  loved  to  copy,  and  a  foot  the 
deformity  of  which  the  beggars  in  the  street  mim- 
icked. He  was  distinguished  by  the  strength  and 
by  the  weakness  of  his  intellect;  affectionate,  yet 
perverse,  —  a  poor  lord,  and  a  handsome  cripple." 

What  was  the  result  of  these  opposite  combina- 
tions ?  —  of  this  lack  of  moral  symmetry  ?  The  first 
noticeable  efforts  of  his  muse,  being  directed  by  his 
perverse  temper,  brought  him  a  harvest  of  contempt 


HARMONY    OF    CHARACTER.  151 

and  hatred.  Stung  to  the  quick,  he  exerted  his 
noble  genius,  and  produced  a  composition  which 
raised  him  to  the  pinnacle  of  fame ;  and  "  all  this 
world,  and  all  the  glory  of  it,  were  at  once  offered  to 
him."  Like  a  spoiled  child,  he  now  yielded  to  the 
violence  of  his  passions,  and  the  bitterness  of  his 
temper.  For  this,  society  cast  him  out  of  its  pale. 
He  fled  to  Italy ;  and  there,  by  turns,  cultivated  his 
genius  and  gratified  his  passions.  He  lost  his  health, 
his  hair  became  gray,  his  food  ceased  to  nourish  him. 
The  Grecian  struggle  for  independence  roused  for  a 
time  his  nobler  sentiments.  He  dragged  his  diseased 
body  to  Missolonghi ;  and  there,  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
six,  this  "  most  celebrated  Englishman  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  closed  his  brilliant  and  miserable 
career." 

Who  will  deny  that  Lord  Byron's  life  was  a 
splendid  failure  ?  Why  was  it  so  ?  Not  for  lack  of 
high  qualities  of  mind,  but  through  excess  of  low 
and  degraded  passions.  Had  this  unhappy  man 
subdued  his  evil  qualities,  and  sedulously  cultivated 
what  was  high  and  noble  in  his  nature,  his  name 

* 


152  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

would  have  passed  down  to  posterity  as  a  model  of 
all  excellency  and  beauty.  Neglecting  this,  he 
stands  among  the  images  of  the  past  like  some  grim 
ghost  on  the  great  highway  of  life,  scaring  the 
advancing  traveller  from  the  ways  of  self-neglect  and 
self-indulgence 

To  resist  temptations,  to  be  prepared  for  all  emer- 
gencies, to  rise  to  real  eminence,  to  answer  life's 
great  end,  you  must  avoid  the  example  before  you. 
You  must  cultivate  all  the  conditions  of  success,  and 
especially  those  in  which  you  find  yourself  most 
deficient.  See  to  it  that  there  are  neither  excesses 
nor  defects  in  your  character,  but  a  harmonious 
blending,  a  delightful  symmetry,  formed  of  fitting 
proportions  of  every  high  quality. 

How  shall  this  symmetry  of  character  be  attained  ? 
By  what  means  shall  the  young  man  repress  his  low 
and  debasing  qualities,  developt  what  is  noble  and 
beautiful  in  human  nature,  and  maintain  a  due  pro- 
portion of  each  element  of  social  superiority  ?  This 
is  a  great  question.  I  will  attempt  its  solution. 

Figure  to,  your  mind  a  perfect  circle  ;  —  observe 


HARMONY   OF    CHARACTER.  153 

that  its  perfection  depends  upon  the  equidistance  of 
every  part  of  its  line  from  the  point  in  its  centre. 
The  least  deviation  would  destroy  its  perfectibility. 
Harmony  of  character  is,  in  like  manner,  produced 
by  the  action  of  some  great  central  principle  upon 
the  conduct — a  principle  whose  comprehensive  grasp 
reaches  to  every  act  and  feeling,  regulating,  stimu- 
lating, repressing,  or  guiding,  as  circumstances  may 
require.  Such  a  principle,  standing  like  the  central 
point  in  the  circle,  and  wielding  absolute  authority 
over  the  soul,  is  the  only  sure  means  of  producing 
that  harmony  of  character  so  essential  to  success. 

The  stern  heroism  of  REGULUS,  the  Roman  gen- 
eral, may  serve  to  illustrate  the  influence  of  such  a 
principle.  This  brave  soldier,  after  being  defeated, 
and  kept  in  captivity  for  several  years,  was  sent  by 
the  Carthaginians  with  an  embassy  to  Rome,  to 
solicit  a  cessation  of  arms  and  an  exchange  of  pris- 
oners. To  secure  his  influence  in  their  favor,  they 
made  him  swear  that,  if  the  desired  end  was  not 
attained,  he  would  return  to  Carthage.  The  Roman 
took  the  oath,  and  departed. 


154  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

Touched  with  the  misfortunes  of  their  general, 
the  Roman  senate  was  disposed  to  treat  for  peace, 
and  retain  the  heroic  Regulus.  But  he,  knowing 
the  weakness  and  exhaustion  of  Carthage,  boldly 
advised  the  continuance  of  the  war.  Upon  this,  the 
senate  rejected  the  overtures  of  the  ambassadors; 
and,  knowing  the  fate  which  awaited  their  general, 
entreated  him  to  remain  at  Rome.  His  wife,  his 
children,  his  friends,  with  tears  and  embraces,  be- 
sought him  not  to  rush  on  certain  destruction.  He 
was  inexorable.  He  had  sworn  to  return,  and  no 
considerations  could  change  his  iron  purpose  to  keep 
his  oath.  He  did  return,  and  his  ungenerous  foes, 
to  their  eternal  infamy,  put  him  to  death  in  the  most 
cruel  and  malignant  manner. 

What  was  it  that  made  Regulus  proof  against  the 
tears  of  his  friends,  the  love  of  his  wife,  the  affection 
of  his  children,  the  fear  of  death  ?  —  for  he  resisted 
all  these  to  fulfil  his  oath.  Was  he  an  unfeeling 
stoic  ?  Nay !  — but  he  was  animated  by  that  noble 
principle  of  Roman  honor,  which  taught  that  death 
was  preferable  to  a  false,  a  mean,  or  a  dastardly 


HARMONY    OF    CHARACTER.  155 

action !  And  it  was  this  controlling  sentiment, 
expelling  or  subduing  all  others,  which  led  him  to 
prefer  his  heroic  death  to  the  violation  of  a  Roman's 
word.  It  also  preserved  him  from  sacrificing  the 
interests  of  his  country  to  his  own  safety.  It  made 
him  at  once  a  patriot  and  a  hero. 

Thus,  you  may  perceive  that  the  influence  of  a 
noble  principle  is  like  the  action  of  the  centripetal 
force  on  the  solar  system.  As  that  attractive  energy 
steadily  maintains  the  unity  and  order  of  the  uni- 
verse, so  a  lofty,  comprehensive,  authoritative  prin- 
ciple subdues  the  thoughts,  emotions  and  actions,  to 
itself,  and  maintains  a  delightful  harmony  in  the  life 
of  a  young  man,  which  commands  the  admiration 
and  confidence  of  mankind.  It  is  the  wave-line  of 
beauty,  which,  running  through  all  his  conduct,  im- 
parts gracefulness  to  each  act,  and  dignity  and  pro- 
priety to  his  entire  character. 

It  is,  therefore,  a  question  of  great  moment  to 
every  young  man,  where  to  obtain  a  principle 
sufficiently  comprehensive  and  powerful  to  regulate 
all  the  parts  of  his  conduct,  so  as  to  form  one  harmo- 


156  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

nious  whole.  Some  are  satisfied  with  the  sentiment 
of  honor,  such  as  ruled  the  Roman  patriot.  But  that 
is  obviously  not  sufficiently  comprehensive.  Your 
modern  men  of  honor  are  gamblers,  duellists,  tyrants. 
Sabbath-breakers,  drunkards,  speculators,  and  the 
like ;  such  things  not  being  prohibited  in  the  code  of 
honor  as  established  by  public  opinion,  and  the  con- 
duct of  " great  men"  falsely  so  called.  Neither  is 
the  law  of  self-respect  sufficient.  It  doubtless  does 
much  to  regulate  life  in  the  sphere  of  home,  but  is  not 
proof  against  the  temptations  which  assail  men  when 
abroad.  Look,  for  instance,  to  the  alarming  fact, 
that  the  theatres,  brothels,  and  other  places  of  sinful 
resort  in  large  cities,  are  chiefly  supported  by  persons 
from  the  country.  And  who  are  these  men  from 
interior  towns  ?  What  are  they,  when  at  home,  but 
rigid  moralists  in  appearance  ?  Diligent,  self-deny- 
ing men  in  their  general  habits,  but  immoral  on 
occasions  and  opportunities.  The  reason  is  obvious. 
They  are  restrained  among  their  friends  only  by  that 
•  low  standard  of  self-respect,  which  fears  degradation 
in  the  eyes  of  others,  but  shrinks  not  from  being 


HARMONY    OF    CHARACTER.  157 

mean  in  its  own  eyes,  and  guilty  in  the  sight  of  God. 
It  is  not  at  all  surprising,  that  such  a  flimsy  defence 
against  temptation  often  yields  to  a  fierce  and  perse- 
vering assault. 

A  fearful  illustration  of  the  absolute  powerlessness 
of  these  restraints,  when  the  soul  is  powerfully 
tempted,  is  furnished  in  the  case  of  the  late  Profes- 
sor Webster.  If  ever  mortal  man  was  placed  in  a 
situation  to  maintain  a  high  character,  through  mo- 
tives of  self-respect  and  honor,  he  was  that  man. 

• 
Educated,   highly   respectable    in    his   connections, 

moving  in  the  most  refined  and  elevated  circles  in 
social  life,  widely  known  through  his  connection 
with  the  mother  of  American  universities,  the  hus- 
band of  an  accomplished  wife,  the  father  of  amiable, 
lovely  daughters,  and  the  possessor  of  what  ought  to 
have  been  an  ample  income,  —  how  could  he  fail  of 
feeling  in  their  full  force  the  claims  of  honor  and 
the  demands  of  self-respect  ?  For  him  to  do  a  noto- 
riously mean  or  unlawful  act,  was  to  fall  from  the 
loftiest  pinnacle  of  social  honor  to  the  lowest  valley 
of  shame.  He  knew  this.  Hence,  honor  and  self- 


158  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

respect  combined  to  keep  him  within  the  bounds  of 
right  and  truth.  .  But  alas !  how  ineffectual  were 
these  restraints  !  Failing  to  reach  the  inner  temple 
of  the  soul,  they  left  him  a  prey  to  pride,  extrava- 
gance and  passion.  Pushed  by  pride  into  extrava- 
gance, and  by  extravagance  into  embarrassments, 
and  by  these  again  into  acts  of  meanness,  which,  if 
proclaimed,  would  wound  his  haughty  pride,  his 
passions  urged  him  to  strike  the  desperate  blow  of 
murder,  to  free  himself  from  the  threatening -danger. 
Passion  won  the  day.  He  slew  Patroclus,  but  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Achilles.  By  striking  a  man  from 
existence  whom  he  deemed  his  tormentor,  he  became 
a  felon,  and  was  dragged  by  the  stern  hand  of  the 
law  from  his  high  position  to  the  scaffold!  Alas! 
that  his  self-respect  and  his  sense  of  honor  should 
have  failed  to  keep  him  from  moral  deformity  and 
from  crime  !  That  it  did  not  is  an  obvious  fact;  and 
that  it  cannot  be  relied  upon  in  the  hour  when  the 
tempter  does  his  utmost,  is  equally  demonstrable, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  and  from  the  history  of 
mankind. 


HARMONY    OF    CHARACTER.  9 

Far  higher,  therefore,  must  that  young  man  look 
than  mere  honor  or  self-respect,  who  would  attain  to 
symmetry  and  stability  of  character.  RELIGION  alone 
can  furnish  him  with  a  principle  at  once  potent  and 
comprehensive  enough  for  his  stern  necessities.  Re- 
ligion establishes  itself  on  the  throne  of  the  soul, 
It  exerts  its  restraining  and  transforming  power  over 
the  will,  the  intellect,  and  the  emotions.  It  per- 
suades, entreats,  and  it  also  commands  with  Divine 
authority.  It  lays  the  soul  under  the  weightiest 
"obligation  to  walk  by  its  great  all-embracing  prin- 
ciple. "WHETHER,  THEREFORE,  YE  EAT  OR  DRINK,  OR 

WHATSOEVER  YE  DO,  DO  ALL  TO  THE  GLORY  OF  GoD." 

Here  is  a  far-reaching  principle,  laying  every  act, 
thought,  and  motive,  under  contribution ;  demanding 
the  utter  negation  of  self,  and  the  subordination  of 
the  entire  man,  physical  and  spiritual,  to  the  law  of 
God.  As  the  mysterious  magnet  points  unerringly 
to  the  northern  pole  of  the  earth,  so  does  this  law 
direct  the  soul  of  the  young  man  to  "  the  glory  of 
God."  He  must  repudiate  whatever  act  or  thought 
dishonors  his  Creator;  he  must  resolutely  practise 


160  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

everything,  however  it  may  crucify  the  passions, 
which  tends  to  glorify  the  God  of  heaven.  Here, 
then,  is  a  principle  suited  to  his  necessities,  whose 
operation,  if  submitted  to,  must,  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  produce  a  lovely  symmetry  of  character. 
It  will  bind  and  restrain  unlawful  passion,  create 
integrity,  —  stimulate  to  energy,  to  self-culture,  to 
industry,  to  economy,  to  tact,  to  everything  that 
develops  noble  qualities  and  latent  powers.  Nor 
are  its  requisitions  of  impossible  performance.  The 
same  authority  which  announces  the  law  also  vouch- 
safes power  to  obey.  "  Ye  shall  receive  power  from 
on  high  ! "  "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,"  are 
the  encouraging  promises  of  the  Law-giver  to  every 
willing  recipient  of  his  command.  And  so  effectu- 
ally is  that  aid  vouchsafed  to  every  submissive  and 
believing  mind,  that,  filled  with  conscious  power,  it 
can  view  all  the  temptations  of  the  inner  and  outer 
life,  and  exclaim,  "I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ 
who  strengtheneth  me  !  " 

To  religion,  therefore,  young  man,  do  I  earnestly 
commend  you,  as  the  surest  means  of  attaining  har- 


HARMONY    OF    CHARACTER.  161 

mony  of  character.  Only  let  the  "  glory  of  God  run 
like  a  silver  thread  through  all  your  actions,"  and 
you  shall  stand  forth  before  the  world  a  symmetrical 
man,  and  hence,  a  man  of  power ;  for 

"  'T  is  moral  grandeur  makes  the  mighty  man." 
11 


CHAPTER  IX. 

VICE  AND  ITS  ALLUREMENTS. 

ANTE,  in  his   DIVINA  COMEDIA, 
describes  a  broad-shouldered  moun- 
tain rising  before  him,  directly  after 
he  had  gone  astray  "  from  the  path 
direct."   Kesolute  of  purpose,  he  pre- 
^pared  to  journey  "over  that  lonely 
steep;"  but  he  says  : 

"  Scarce  the  ascent 

Begun,  when  lo  !  a  panther,  nimble,  light, 
And  covered  with  a  speckled  skin,  appeared  ; 
Nor  when  it  saw  me  vanished  ;  rather  strove 
To  check  my  onward  going." 

Having  overcome  this  beast,  he  adds  : 

"  A  lion  came  'gainst  me  as  it  appeared, 
With  his  head  held  aloft  and  hunger  mad, 
That  e'en  the  air  was  fear-struck.   A  she-wolf 
Was  at  his  heels,  who  in  her  leanness  seemed 
Full  of  all  wants." 


VICE    AND    ITS    ALLUREMENTS.  163 

Trembling  before  this  new  enemy,  he  was  about  to 
flee  when  a  form  appeared,  who,  in  reply  to  his  tears 
and  entreaties,  said : 

"  Thou  must  needs 

Another  way  pursue,  if  thou  wouldst  'scape 
From  out  that  savage  wilderness.     This  beast 
To  whom  thou  criest,  her  way  will  suffer  none 
To  pass  ;  and  no  less  hindrance  makes  than  death." 

The  panther  of  Dante,  with  its  soft,  gay  skin,  is 
an  emblem  of  voluptuousness  in  all  its  forms.  The 
lion  is  the  figure  of  ambition ;  the  wolf,  of  avarice. 
These  three  beasts  beset  and  assail  every  traveller  in 
the  way  of  life.  First  comes  the  panther,  when  the 
passions  wake  to  life  in  the  young  man's  breast,  striv- 
ing to  destroy  him  with  the  pleasures  of  lust  and 
appetite.  If  by  these  means  he  is  conquered, —  if  he 
permits  himself  to  be  charmed  by  illicit,  sensual  grat- 
ifications, —  he  sinks  to  the  level  of  a  brute ;  and  his 
body,  his  name,  and  deeds,  speedily  rot  together.  If 
he  resist  the  panther,  the  insatiable  cravings  of 
ambitnn  wake  up,  fierce  as  a  lion,  in  his  soul,  and 
he  is  fempted  to  enter  the  lists  where  men  do  tih 


164  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

and  tourney  for  the  crowns  of  human  fame.  For 
these,  if  ambition  triumph,  he  forfeits  the  crown  of 
everlasting  life !  Should  he  resist,  and  seek  distinc- 
tion only  as  a  means  of  honoring  his  Creator,  thf 
wolf  of  avarice  next  seeks  his  overthrow.  Thus 
danger  succeeds  danger,  until  he  perishes,  or,  by 
resistance  and  conquest,  attains  a  noble  sublimity  of 
character ;  and,  radiant  in  the  rays  of  a  virtue  gained 
through  the  power  of  a  religious  faith,  passes  in  tri- 
umph through  the  "everlasting  doors,"  into  the 
eternal  paradise. 

You,  young  man,  are  at  the  age  in  which  the  pas- 
sions and  appetites  begin  to  clamor  for  indulgence. 
They  glow  with  all  the  fervor  of  fierce  desire,  and 
prompt  you  to  indulge  yourself  through  means  for- 
bidden both  by  the  constitution  of  your  nature  and 
the  laws  of  God.  Remember  that  your  Creator  has 
implanted  these  propensities  within  you  for  high  and 
holy  purposes.  They  are  not  necessarily  debasing 
and  imbruting  in  their  tendencies.  They  only  be- 
come so  when,  impatient  of  restraint,  a  youth  lays 
the  reins  of  control  upon  their  neck,  and  bids  them 


VICE    AND   ITS    ALLUREMENTS.  165 

dash  witli  wild  impetuosity  across  the  Rubicon  which 
flows  along  the  borders  between  innocence  and  guilt, 
—  right  and  wrong.  But  when,  by  the  aids  of  rea- 
son and  conscience,  the  triumphant  soul  becomes 
conscious  of  holding  a  high  moral  reign  over  the 
inferior  body,  it  rapidly  rises  in  dignity  and  in 
power.  The  very  strength  of  these  propensions,  by 
calling  the  authority  of  the  soul  into  existence,  thus 
serves  to  promote  its  elevation  and  develop  its  great- 
ness. Determine,  therefore,  young  reader,  to  be 
above  the  servitude  of  the  senses  !  Let  your  intelli- 
gent soul,  aided  by  Divine  grace,  point  to  the  limit 
of  Divine  law,  and  say  to  the  foamings  of  passion  as 
God  to  the  swelling  sea  :  "Hitherto  shalt  thou  come, 
but  no  further :  and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves,  be 
stayed !  "  and  the  grace  of  Christ  shall  shut  up  your 
desires,  as  his  Omnipotence  has  "shut  up  the  sea  with 
doors." 

One  of  your  chief  dangers,  in  this  controversy  with 
passion,  is  found  in  the  fact  that  while  religion,  con- 
science, duty,  cry  "  RESTRAIN  !  DENY  !  "  the  world, 
through  its  pleasures  and  its  adherents,  cries  "  EN- 


166  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

JOY  !  "  Hence,  temptations  and  practical  sanctions 
to  vicious  indulgence  abound.  Corresponding  to  the 
burning  desires  within,  are  abundant  means  to  grat 
ify  them  without.  These  means  are  so  contrived  a? 
to  hide  the  miseries  of  vice  beneath  dazzling  and 
charming  appearances.  That  wretched  poet,  BYRON, 
who  wrote  from  the  black  depth  of  his  own  tormented 
spirit,  thus  describes  it  in  his  "  CHILDE  HAROLD  : " 

"  Ah  vice,  how  soft  are  thy  voluptuous  ways  ! 
While  boyish  blood  is  mantling,  who  can  'scape 
The  fascination  of  thy  magic  gaze ! 
A  cherub  hydra  round  us  dost  thou  gape, 
And  mould  to  every  taste  thy  dear  delusive  shape." 

Behold  by  yonder  way-side  a  small  and  delicate 
tree,  covered  with  a  rich  profusion  of  crimson  bloom. 
As  you  stand  at  a  distance,  it  strongly  resembles  a 
peach-tree  covered  with  its  beautiful  blossoms.  A 
nearer  approach  will  undeceive  you.  Heaps  of  dead 
insects  at  your  feet,  and  swarms  of  living  ones  float- 
ing round  its  bloom,  and  hastening  to  sip  its  fatal 
nectar,  proclaim  the  poisonous  nature  of  the  gaudy 
shrub.  Yon  passing  peasant  boy  will  tell  you  it  ia 


VICE    AND   ITS    ALLUREMENTS.  167 

the   "Judas-tree,"   or,  in    Indian  phraseology    the 
"  Red-bud." 

Such  is  vice  to  every  young  novitiate:  —  charming < 
to  the  eyes,  exquisitely  exciting  to  the  senses,  it 
allures  the  unwary  youth  to  taste  its  forbidden  pleas- 
ures. He  sees  the  brilliant  gayety  of  the  saloon  and 
the  theatre.  He  hears  the  soft,  voluptuous  music  of 
the  orchestra  and  the  ball-room.  He  gazes  on  the 
radiant  faces  of  the  dancers,  and  on  the  excited 
crowds  who  throng  the  portals  of  the  drama.  He 
observes  the  seductive  glances  of  the  "  strange  wo- 
man," until  his  blood  boils,  his  head  reels,  his  desires 
overcome  him.  "  There  is  pleasure  in  these  things," 
he  cries.  Then,  heedless  of  the  admonishing  shade 
of  his  mother,  which  gazes  sadly  on  his  tempted 
spirit,  scorning  the  monition  of  his  moral  guardian, 
—  his  conscience,  which  cries  "  Forbear,"  —  reckless 
of  all  but  present  joy,  he  flies  to  taste  the  forbidden 
nectar.  One  taste  only  inflames  his  soul  the  more. 
Like  the  insects  on  the  Judas-tree,  he  heeds  not  the 
swarms  of  perished  ones,  but  tastes  and  tastes  again, 
until  he  is  lost  beyond  redemption. 


1S8  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

Stand  with  me,  in  imagination,  young  man,  at  the 
hour  of  midnight,  and  gaze  upon  the  fire  in  yonder 
city.  A  large  cluster  of  houses  is  wrapped  in  flames, 
which,  roaring  aloud,  as  if  rejoicing  in  destruction, 
send  their  broad  red  sheets,  and  their  ever-darting 
fiery  tongues,  far  up  into  the  gloomy  sky.  At 
length,  they  spread  to  an  aviary  containing  nearly  a 
thousand  beautiful  canary-birds.  Unable  to  remove 
them,  unwilling  to  stand  and  see  them  burned,  their 
owner  opens  the  doors  of  their  prison-house,  and  the 
bewildered  birds  fly  into  the  air.  Mounted  above 
the  flames,  they  hover  for  a  while  in  seeming  safety. 
Now  they  whirl  in  circles  above  the  fearful  blaze,  as 
if  held  by  some  irresistible  fascination ;  now,  sweep- 
ing downwards  and  upwards,  as  if  Tresolute  of  pur- 
pose, they  linger  a  little  longer,  un.J  first  one  and 
then  another  drops  into  the  burning  pile,  and  every 
little  songster  is  speedily  destroyed. 

Very  similar  are  the  fascinations  of  vicious  pleas- 
ures. Once  within  the  embrace  of  evil,  a  young 
man  has  little  hope  of  escape.  If  he  will  not  study 
its  terrible  consequences,  before  he  enters  upon  its 


VICE    AND   ITS    ALLUREMENTS.  169 

practice,  he  will  be  either  blind  to  their  existence,  or 
so  fascinated  by  the  spell  exerted  over  his  passions, 
that  his  escape  will  be  next  to  an  impossibility.  So 
deadly  is  the  infatuation  of  vice  to  a  fallen  young 
man,  that  the  first  indulgence  by  which  he  enters 
the  path  of  the  sensualist  might  almost  claim  the 
lines  which  DANTE  has  inscribed  over  the  gate  of 
hell: 

"  Through  me  you  pass  into  the  city  of  woe, 
Through  me  you  pass  into  eternal  pain, 
Through  me,  among  the  people  lost  for  aye. 

All  hope  abandon  ye  who  enter  here." 

This  is  speaking  very  strongly,  I  am  aware ; 
because  the  sensualist,  whether  drunkard,  debauchee 
or  glutton,  may  be  pardoned  and  regenerated  through 
the  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  may,  such  is  the 
all-abounding  grace  of  Christ,  escape  the  bondage  of 
vice,  and  win  the  freedom  of  a  man  of  virtue.  But 
the  enervating  influence  and  the  ever-increasing 
potency  of  vicious  indulgences  are  so  great  and  so 
mighty,  that  there  is  little  room  to  hope  for  the 


170  rotiNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

recovery  of  a  young  man,  who,  having  been  trained 
to  pure  principles,  descends  to  the  corruptions  of  a 
bad  life.  Vice  is  like  the  terrible  cobra  di  capello, 
which  winds  itself  round  its  victim,  and  from  its 
deadly  fangs  pours  poison  into  his  blood.  So  vice 
enslaves  and  destroys.  Whoever  is  charmed  to  its 
embraces,  finds  himself  enfolded  in  bonds  of  might, 
and  poisoned  with  a  morbid  venom  which  irritates 
and  stimulates  his  passions  beyond  the  endurance  of 
his  vital  powers ;  until,  with  a  diseased  body,  a  hard- 
ened heart,  and  a  remorseful  spirit,  he  sinks  to  an 
untimely  death,  and  is  driven  to  stand,  shivering 
with  fear,  before  his  God ! 

The  history  of  mankind  is  a  great  commentary 
upon  this  truth.  It  is  crowded  with  cases  of  those 
who,  through  the  allurements  of  the  passions,  have 
raadly  rushed  on  ruin.  They  have  seen  fortune, 
fame,  station,  reputation,  and  even  empire,  sliding 
away  from  beneath  their  feet.  Voices  of  friendship 
have  stunned  their  ears  with  warnings.  Kuin,  with 
grim  and  horrid  visage,  has  stared  them  in  the  face 


VICE    AND   ITS   ALLUREMENTS.  171 

But,   spell-bound,   enchanted,   charmed,  they    have 
heedlessly  pursued  their  pleasures, 

"  Like  birds  the  charming  serpent  draws, 
To  drop  head  foremost  in  his  jaws," 

until  the  darkness  of  the  second  death  swallowed 
them  up  forever ! 

Do  you  ask  for  particular  examples  ?  Let  me  lead 
you  to  that  of  MARK  ANTONY,  one  of  the  triumviri 
who  governed  Rome  after  the  assassination  of  Caesar. 
He 'was  the  possessor  of  high  military  talents,  the 
idol  of  his  soldiers,  the  husband  of  the  nobly  born 
Octavia,  and  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  greatest  empire 
in  the  world.  This  man,  as  you  know,  was  met,  in 
the  fulness  of  his  strength  and  in  the  "pride  of  his 
victories,  by  the  luxurious  Cleopatra,  Queen  of 
Egypt.  Lured  by  her  voluptuous  wiles,  he  yielded 
himself  up  to  a  life  of  sensuous  prodigality.  The 
feast,  the  dance,  the  song,  absorbed  his  time;  the 
artifice  and  beauty  of  Cleopatra  captivated  his  soul. 
Regardless  of  honor  and  duty,  he  divorced  his  wife; 
reckless  of  consequences,  he  wasted  his  resources, 


172  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

neglected  his  fortunes,  and  saw  without  concern  the 
preparations  of  his  rival,  Octavius,  to  secure  his  ruin. 
He  lay,  a  self-abandoned  victim,  in  the  arms  of  his 
artful  destroyer.  No  sense  of  honor,  no  idea  of  self- 
respect,  no  fear  of  overhanging  consequences,  could 
rouse  him  from  his  fatal  entrancement.  But  the 
cloud  soon  burst  over  his  foolish  head,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  storm,  he  lost  empire,  fame,  and  life, 
together ! 

Poor  ROBERT  BURNS,  the  bard  of  Scotland,  is 
another  illustration  of  the  power  of  vice  to  retain  its 
victim.  His  talents  raised  him  from  the  obscurity 
of  his  early  life  to  distinction.  His  generous  inde- 
pendence of  mind  secured  him  the  affections  of  those 
with  whom  he  became  intimate.  With  ordinary 
prudence,  he  might  have  spent  his  days  in  ease  and 
independence.  But  his  noble  spirit  was  in  the  bonds 
of  dissipation.  Many,  but  vain  were  his  struggles 
after  freedom.  Innumerable  were  his  resolves  to 
conquer  the  habit  which  charmed  and  disgusted 
him  by  turns.  The  consciousness  he  felt  concerning 
the  utter  hopelessness  of  his  case,  is  touchingly  ex- 


VICE    AND   IIS    ALLUREMENTS.  173 

pressed  in  the  following  lines,  composed  by  himself 
as  a  prayer,  in  a  fit  of  dangerous  illness  : 

"  Fain  would  I  say, f  Forgive  my  foul  offence,' 
Fain  promise  never  more  to  disobey  ; 
But  should  my  Author  health  again  dispense, 
Again  I  might  desert  fair  virtue's  way, 
Again  in  folly's  path  might  go  astray, 
Again  exalt  the  brute  and  sink  the  man  ; 
Then  how  should  I  for  heavenly  mercy  pray, 
Who  act  so  counter  heavenly  mercy's  plan  — 
Who  sin  so  oft  have  mourned,  yet  to  temptation  ran !" 

This  melancholy  subjection  of  soul  to  sense  con- 
tinued to  the  close  of  his  life.  His  last  illness  was 
brought  on  by  the  dissipation  of  a  winter's  night. 
He  died  in  poverty,  the  victim  of  a  folly  which  weak- 
ened his  powers,  dimmed  the  lustre  of  his  fame,  and 
shortened  his  days  on  earth.  Pitiful  sight,  to  see  a 
soul  possessed  of  such  noble  powers  enslaved  by  a 
degrading  vice  !  How  forcibly  does  the  ruin  of  such 
minds  prove  the  almost  omnipotence  of  vice ! 

The  case  of  RICHARD  BRINSLEY  SHERIDAN,  the 
most  brilliant  orator  of  his  times,  is  equally  in  point. 
What  native  greatness  must  have  held  its  seat  in 


174  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

his  soul !  What  magnificence  of  intellect  was  thai 
which  gave  birth  to  the  eloquence,  wit  and  argu- 
ment, which  drew  from  the  glorious  Burke  the  con- 
fession that  the  effect  of  his  speech,  in  the  case  of 
Warren  Hastings,  was  the  "  most  astonishing  of  any 
of  which  there  was  any  record  or  tradition ; "  and 
from  the  great  Mr.  Pitt,  the  acknowledgment  that  it 
"  surpassed  all  the  eloquence  of  ancient  or  modern 
times."  Yet,  even  his  great  soul  was  the  slave  of 
imperious  passions!  Indolence,  dissipation,  prodi- 
gality, held  him  bound  in  chains  of  steel,  and  bore 
him  to  distress,  anguish,  poverty,  and  ruin.  Vain 
were  all  his  agonizing  struggles  after  his  lost  moral 
freedom.  This  man,  whose  eloquence  led  princes  to 
court  his  friendship,  and  compelled  the  admiration 
of  his  rivals  in  politics  and  oratory,  was  arrested  by 
a  sheriff's  officer  for  debt,  on  his  death-bed !  What 
invincible  strength!  What  irresistible  attractions! 
What  power  to  debase  and  to  weaken  must  be 
lodged  in  vices  which  could  pull  down  ruin  on  the 
head  of  such  a  princely  intellect  as  that  of  Kichard 
Brinsley  Sheridan ! 


VICE    AND    ITS    ALLUREMENTS.  175 

I  have  given  these  illustrations  from  the  lives  of 
what  are  called  great  men,  that  the  young  man  may 
see  the  power  of  vice  over  minds  of  the  largest 
capacity.  If  such  men  found  it  impossible  to  escape, 
how  can  others  encourage  the  hope  of  a  better  fate  ? 
Nay,  dear  youth,  the  only  safe  course  for  you  is  to 

RESOLUTELY     LET     ALL    VICIOUS     INDULGENCE     ALONE  ! 

" Avoid  it,  pass  not  by  it,  turn  from  it,  and  pass 
away :  Then  shall  than  walk  in  thy  way  safely,  and. 
thy  foot  shall  not  stumble" 

The  plea  of  every  young  mind  that  enters  upon  its 
novitiate  in  the  school  of  vice  is  for  only  a  little  self- 
indulgence.  The  mind,  while  undefiled  by  positive 
contact  with  the  sins  of  the  senses,  revolts  from  the 
idea  of  a  wholly  vicious  life.  It  views  such  a  life  as 
the  dogs  of  Egypt  are  said  to  fear  the  crocodiles 
which  abound  in  the  Nile.  So  intense  is  this  fear, 
that,  when  impelled  by  fierce  thirst  to  drink  its 
waters,  they  do  it  as  they  run,  not  daring  to  pause 
long  enough  at  once  to  satisfy  their  burning  desires. 
Thus  does  the  young  man  propose  to  taste  illicit 
joys.  He  would  only  taste  and  floe,  lest  he  should 


176  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

be  devoured !  Alas !  he  knows  not  the  terrible  power 
he  awakens,  when  he  quaffs  his  first  draught  from 
the  prohibited  stream  of  pleasure  !  By  that  one  act, 
he  casts  away  the  talisman  of  his  safety,  self-denial ; 
he  removes  the  curb  from  the  mouth  of  lust,  he 
pours  foul  water  upon  the  virgin  snow,  and  thus 
places  an  ineffaceable  stain  upon  his  purity ;  he  con- 
tracts guilt,  sows  the  seed  of  remorse,  and  sells  his 
moral  freedom  for  nought.  A  little  indulgence? 
Never,  young  man!  Allow  it,  and  you  are  lost; 
blindness  begins  where  vice  first  enchants.  Beware, 
oh  beware  of  this  pestilential  apology !  Be  like  the 
knights  of  Tasso,  who,  on  Armida's  enchanted  isle, 
seeing  all  the  enticements  of  sense  voluptuously  pre- 
pared and  inviting  to  indulgence,  exclaimed  : 

"  Let  us  avoid  the  dream 
Of  warm  desire,  and  in  resolve  be  strong ; 
Now  shut  our  ears  to  the  fair  Siren's  song, 
And  to  each  smile  of  feminine  deceit 
Close  the  fond  eye." 

Thus  resolved,  the  wiles  and  witcheries  of  Armi- 


VICE    AND    ITS    ALLUREMENTS.  177 

da's  luxurious  groves  and  bewitching  damsels  were 
powerless;  for 

"  To  these  wiles  the  knights  in  triple  steel 
Of  stern  resolve  had  shut  their  souls  ;  and  hence 
The  tunes  they  sing,  the  beauties  they  reveal, 
Their  angel  looks  and  heavenly  eloquence, 
But  circle  round  and  round,  nor  reach  the  seat  of  sense." 

Thus  must  every  young  man  meet  the  first  ad- 
vances of  vicious  solicitation,  if  he  would  not  be 
drawn  into  hopeless  servitude.  The  saying  of  an 
odd  writer,  concerning  courts  of  law,  is  applicable  to 
the  court  of  pleasure.  He  says,  "  A  man  who  goes 
to  law  finds  the  court  full  of  invisible  hooks.  He 
turns  round  to  disembarrass  himself  from  one,  and 
straightway  he  is  caught  by  another.  First  his 
cloak,  then  the  skirts  of  his  coat,  then  his  sleeves, 
till  ere  long  everything  is  torn  from  him,  and,  like  a 
gypsy,  he  escapes  because  he  is  so  stripped  there  is 
no  further  hold  upon  him." 

The  youth  who  crosses  the  threshold  of  the  court 
of  vice  will  find  these  '^invisible  hooks,"  sharper  and 
in  greater  abundance  than  in  courts  of  law.  Once 
12 


1"78  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

caught,  he  will  be  "hooked"  in  every  direction. 
One  tempter  will  succeed  another,  each  handing  him 
over  to  the  next.  Thus  snared  and  dragged  from 
vice  to  vice,  until  denuded  of  every  virtue,  he  will  at 
last,  in  all  probability,  perish  in  unutterable  woe 
Therefore,  young  reader,  beware  of  the  first  lesson 
in  vice !  Your  escape  from  destruction  depends  on 
your  being  strong  in  resolve  to  resist  the  first  ad- 
vances of  illicit  pleasure.  "  The  bird  which  is 
ensnared  by  one  leg  is  as  surely  the  prey  of  the 
fowler  as  if  it  were  seized  by  both  wings."  Or  let 
one  wheel  of  a  watch  be  magnetized,  it  will  attract 
all  the  other  wheels  to  itself,  and  thus  as  effectually 
destroy  its  correctness  as  if  every  wheel  was  dis- 
placed. Beware,  then,  of  one  disordered  passion  — 
one  ensnaring  abomination ! 

I  find  a  very  appropriate  illustration  of  the  risk 
incurred  by  one  indulgence  in  forbidden  things  in 
the  life  of  the  great  Arabian  impostor,  MOHAMMED. 
In  the  course  of  his  astonishing  career  of  victory,  he 
captured  the  citadel  of  Khaibar.  A  Jewish  captive, 
named  Zainab,  determined  to  destroy  the  conqueror. 


VlCE    AND   ITS    ALLUREMENTS.  179 

To  accomplish  her  purpose,  she  prepared  a  subtle 
poison,  an  art  in  which  she  was  exquisitely  skilful, 
and  introduced  it  into  a  shoulder  of  lamb,  which  was 
designed  for  the  prophet's  table.  Her  plot  was  un- 
discovered, and  in  due  time  the  poisoned  meat  was 
set  before  the  intended  victim.  Unsuspicious  of 
danger,  Mohammed  began  his  repast.  But  at  the 
first  mouthful,  perceiving  something  unusual  in  its 
taste,  he  spat  it  forth;  but  instantly  felt  acute  inter- 
nal pain.  In  that  brief  moment,  he  had  imbibed 
enough  of  the  poison  to  injure  his  constitution 
through  the  remainder  of  his  life.  Many  were  the 
severe  paroxysms  of  pain  he  suffered  from  its  po- 
tency. And  in  his  dying  moments,  while  undergoing 
intense  physical  agony,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  The  veins  of  my  heart  are  throbbing  with  the 
poison  of  Khaibar  !  " 

Young  man !  believe  me,  your  first  taste  of  vicious 
pleasure,  though  it  may  not  be  succeeded  by  a  second 
oiFence,  may  be  as  fatal  to  you  as  the  poison  of 
Zainab  was  to  the  oriental  prophet !  HORACE  MANN, 
in  his  noble  "  Thoughts  for  a  Young  Man,"  has  well 


180  yptiNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

said :  "  The  capital  of  health  may  all  be  forfeited  by 
one  physical  misdemeanor."  He  might  have  added, 
that  the  capital  of  character,  of  moral  purity,  of  self« 
respect,  are  all  jeopardized  by  one  transgression. 
Pause,  therefore,  at  the  threshold  of  the  temple  of 
infamy ;  and  though  a  jovial  companion,  a  witching 
seducer,  may  say,  " only  this  once"  do  you  reflect 
and  reply ;  "  Nay !  on  a  death-bed  the  veins  of  my 
heart  may  throb  with  the  poison  of  this  one  sin  . " 

"  Wherewithal  shall  a  you?ig  man  cleanse  his  way? " 
was  the  question  of  the  psalmist,  when  viewing,  as 
we  have  been  doing,  the  allurements  and  power,  of 
vice.  The  question  is  timely  and  proper  at  this 
stage  of  our  work.  The  answer  of  the  experienced 
minstrel  is  equally  in  point :  viz.,  "By  taking  heed 
thereto  ACCORDING  TO  THY  WORD;"  that  is,  by  securing 
the  aid  of  religious  power.  Without  this  help  from 
above,  such  is  the  tyranny  of  human  passion  arid 
appetite,  resistance  is  almost  vain.  Wrestling  with 
their  strength,  the  unaided  youth  will  be  compelled 
to  exclaim,  with  a  greater  than  himself,  "  O  wretched 
man  that  I  am  !  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body 


VICE    AND   ITS    ALLUREMENTS.  181 

jf  this  death  ?  "  If,  like  that  majestic  apostle,  he  will 
fly  to  the  grace  of  Christ,  he  will  be  enabled  to  join 
in  his  triumphal  strains,  and  cry,  "Nay,  in  all  these 
things  we  are  more  than  conquerors,  through  him  that 
loved  us  /"  and  again  —  "This  one  thing  I  do  —  / 
keep  my  body  under,  and  bring  it  into  subjection" 

Fly,  therefore,  beloved  young  man,  to  the  ark  of 
our  Divine  religion  for  safety.  There,  the  energy, 
the  strength,  the  power  of  an  inner  life,  shall  be 
developed  within  you.  Satisfied  from  within  your- 
self, fortified  by  strong  affection  for  virtue,  and  in- 
tense loathing  against  vice,  you  will  be  secure.  Your 
character  shall  thus  be  lofty ;  your  purity  unspotted  ; 
your  real  enjoyment  undiminished,  yea,  immeasura- 
bly increased  ;  your  name,  instead  of  being  "  writ  in 
water,"  shall  be  engraved  on  the  hearts  of  the  good, 
and  in  the  records  of  eternity. 


CHAPTER  X. 

VICE  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES. 

ITH   what   graphic   beauty   has 
the  pencil  of  MOSES  sketched  the 
M  scenes  of  patriarchal  life !     How 
true   to   human   nature,  how   in- 
structive to  a  thoughtful  mind,  are 
his   delineations   of    those   ancient 
characters !      But  their  hignest   enco- 
mium is  their  unquestionable  truthful- 
ness.    Let  us  study  one  of  these  pic- 
tures,  and   carefully   extract    its    precious 
moral. 

Behold  the  venerable  ABRAHAM  standing  in  the 
door-way  of  his  tent,  with  his  vigorous  and  manly 
nephew,  LOT,  at  his  side !  Lot  is  deeply  agitated. 
The  uneasy  workings  of  restrained  anger  are  visible 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  183 

in  his  flashing  eye,  knitted  brows,  and  earnest  man- 
ner. Let  us  listen  to  his  words  : 

"  Eevered  sire,  our  herdmen  are  at  war  with  each 
other.  Every  day  their  contentions  increase !  Their 
strifes  are  not  to  be  endured  !  What  can  be  done  ? " 

Abraham,  calm  and  dignified,  replies,  "  Let  there 
be  no  strife,  I  pray  thee,  between  me  and  thee,  for 
we  be  brethren.  Is  not  the  whole  land  before  thee? 
Separate  thyself,  I  pray  thee,  from  me.  If  thou  wilt 
take  the  left  hand,  I  will  go  to  the  right ;  or,  if  you 
depart  to  the  right  hand,  I  will  go  to  the  left !  " 

Upon  this,  Lot  gazes  at  the  lovely  landscape 
spread  out  around  them.  It  embraces  the  fertile  vale 
of  the  Jordan,  rich  in  its  herbage,  its  wells  and  fruits. 
True  the  vile  inhabitants  of  Sodom  live  on  its  bor- 
ders. But  Lot  has  a  worldly  heart.  He  seeks  only 
to  be  rich.  Hence,  on  selfish  and  sinful  principles 
alone,  he  selects  the  valley  of  the  Jordan,  and  sepa- 
rating himself  from  his  uncle,  takes  up  his  abode  in 
the  vale  of  Sodom,  intent  on  acquiring  and  enjoying 
riches.  Abraham  removed  his  tent  to  Hebron. 

Scarcely  has  Lot  established  himself  in  hi?  new 


184  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

home,  before  an  invading  army  sweeps  over  the  vale, 
and  Lot,  with  his  family  and  flock,  is  led  away  a 
prisoner.  Abraham,  with  his  good  sword,  hastens  to 
his  rescue,  and  he  is  restored.  For  a  while,  Lot  now 
enjoys  prosperity ;  but  his  children  mostly  fall  into 
the  vices  of  the  place,  and  apostatize  from  God. 
The  -hour  of  Sodom's  overthrow  then  arrived. 
Through  the  intercession  of  Abraham,  Lot  is  warned 
of  the  impending  danger,  and  leaving  all  his  wealth 
and  most  of  his  children  behind,  he  flees  penniless  to 
the  mountains.  On  the  way,  his  wife  falls  by  the 
hand  of  God;  and  poor,  destitute  Lot,  with  two  of  his 
daughters,  becomes  the  forlorn  o  cupant  of  a  moun- 
tain cave  !  How  different  was  this  result  from  the 
sanguine  expectation  which  swelled  his  breast  on 
the  day  when,  for  mere  purposes  of  profit  and  en- 
joyment, he  pitched  his  tent  beside  the  gate  of 
Sodom ! 

What  a  melancholy  lesson  lies  on  the  surface  of 
this  sketch  !  How  emphatically  it  teaches  the  doom 
of  a  worldly  mind  to  disappointment !  How  like  a 
warning  voice  should  the  fate  of  Lot  ring  in  the  ears 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  185 

of  the  youth  who  is  .looking  out  upon  the  vale  of  life, 
and  regarding  the  enchanting  devices  of  evil  with  a 
strength  of  desire  brooking  no  restraint !  The  song, 
the  dance,  the  revel,  the  theatre,  the  saloon,  the 
gaudy  sepulchre  of  departed  virtue,  all  blend  in  the 
gay  pictures  of  his  fancy ;  and  he,  like  Lot,  deliber- 
ately resolves  to  take  up  his  abode  in  the  vale  of 
modern  Sodom.  Not  that  he  intends  to  be  as  vile 
as  others.  O,  no !  He  is  a  perfect  HAZAEL,  con- 
templating vicious  excess  with  a  stern  indignation 
which  cries  :  "Is  thy  servant  a  dog,  that  he  should  do 
this  thing  ? "  It  is  from  limited  indulgence  he 
anticipates  a  harvest  of  delight.  But,  limited  or 
excessive,  the  result  is  the  same.  Sinful  pleasure,  in 
all  its  Protean  shapes,  disappoints  its  victim.  From 
the  first  delirious,  intoxicating  draught,  to  the  last 
dreg  in  the  cup,  all  is  disappointment.  Hear  a  vet- 
eran in  the  ranks  of  folly  testify  : 

"  When  all  is  won  that  all  desire  to  woo, 
The  paltry  prize  is  hardly  worth  the  cost. 
Youth  wasted,  mind  degraded,  honor  lost, 
These  are  thy  fruits,  successful  passion !  —  these ! 
If,  kindly  cruel,  early  hope  is  crost, 


186      YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

Still  to  the  last  it  rankles,  a  disease 

Not  to  be  cured  when  love  itself  forgets  to  please." 

But  why,  if  the  first  experiences  of  young  profli- 
gates are  succeeded  by  disappointment,  do  they  per- 
sist ?  Because  they  vainly  hope  that  other  untried 
indulgences  will  yield  greater  pleasure.  They  fear 
the  contempt  of  their  more  daring  associates;  but 
chiefly  because  passion  is  a  tyrant,  a  perfect  Haynau. 
When  once  freed  from  the  golden  chain  of  innocence, 
it  usurps  absolute  authority,  and  drives  its  victim 
like  a  helpless  slave  to  ruin.  The  drunkard  knows 
but  too  well  the  terrible  power  of  his  ever-craving 
appetite.  His  reason,  his  affections,  his  self-respect, 
his  dearest  friends,  his  present  and  eternal  interests, 
all  stand  at  the  bar  of  this  inward  monster,  and  plead 
in  vain.  It  impels  him,  in  spite  of  himself,  to  sink 
into  deeper  misery.  The  same  is  true  of  every  other 
vicious  habit.  He  who  enters  upon  a  vicious  career 
is  like  the  man  who  is  lured  by  a  false  light  to  ven- 
ture on  the  treacherous  quagmire ;  once  sunk  in  its 
fatal  mud,  every  attempt  to  extricate  himself  only 
sinks  him  still  deeper.  Terrible,  indeed,  are  his 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  187 

efforts,  awiul  his  apprehensions,  fearful  is  his  pros- 
pect of  destruction.  If  he  does  escape,  it  is  as  if 
by  miracle.  " He  is  carnal,  sold  under  sin"  He 
has  surrendered  the  helm  of  his  soul  to  his  baser 
nature.  Nothing  short  of  a  complete  abandonment 
of  himself  to  religion  can  restore  that  lost  helm  to 
the  hand  of  reason.  That  step  he  will  not  take,  and 
therefore  he  cannot  pause  in  his  wicked  career.  And 
this  is  one  portion  of  a  sinner's  penalty.  The  pleas- 
ure he  invited  as  a  guest  to  beguile  his  hours  of 
leisure,  becomes  his  master.  He  sees  his  ruin,  yet 
rushes  upon  it.  Abject,  stung  to  the  quick,  irritated, 
agonized  and  tortured,  he  writhes  in  vain  struggles 
to  free  himself  from  his  tyrant.  Despondency  seizes 
his  mind,  and  often,  as  in  the  melancholy  case  of  the 
late  Dr.  Morton,  a  young  English  physician,  he  con- 
cludes the  tragedy  by  rushing,  an  unbidden  guest, 
into  the  spiritual  world. 

This  Dr.  Morton,  who  appears  to  have  been  a  man 
of  genius,  had  fallen  into  the  vice  of  drunkenness. 
Many  and  fierce  were  nis  vain  struggles  for  the  mas- 


188  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

tery,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  following  extract  from 
his  journal :  — 

"  I  have  only  to  remember  my  dreadful  sufferings 
the  morning  after  taking  so  much  beer  or  wine. 
Low  suicidal  feelings,  despondent  and  gloomy 
thoughts,  pulse  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and 
twenty,  head  dizzy,  limbs  tremulous,  pains  about  the 
heart,  flatulence  and  eructations,  incapacity  for  duty 
of  any  kind,  temper  irritable  and  overbearing,  expen- 
sive habits,  loss  of  time,  forgetfulness  of  engage- 
ments, everything  in  disorder,  —  and  all  for  what  ? 
Because  I  choose  to  take  two  pints  of  ale  or  half  a 
bottle  ofiuine" 

As  already  intimated,  this  accomplished  but  un- 
happy man,  finding  himself  enslaved  to  his  darling 
vice,  died  by  his  own  hand  at  the  early  age  of  thirty- 
six  —  a  sad  monument  of  the  terrible  effect  of  vice 
on  a  superior  mind  ! 

BYRON  has  well  described  this  despairing  gloom 
which  sooner  or  later  overspreads  the  sinning 
soul : — 


VICE    AND   ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  189 

"  And  vice,  that  digs  her  own  voluptuous  tomb, 
Had  buried  long  his  hopes,  no  more  to  rise, 
Pleasure's  palled  victim !    Life  abhorring  gloom 
Wrote  on  his  faded  brow,  cursed  Cain's  unresting  doom." 

This  power  of  passion  to  coerce  reason  has  a 
remarkable  illustration  in  the  case  of  GEORGE  WACHS, 
a  German  youth,  who  was  apprenticed  to  one  Schnee- 
weisser,  a  carpenter,  at  Soiling.  This  lad,  the  son 
of  a  small  farmer,  lived  an  irreproachably  moral  life 
until  his  eighteenth  year,  when  he  became  disso- 
lute in  his  habits.  He  then  grew  wanton,  riotous, 
disorderly  and  lazy ;  fond  of  dress,  and  excessively 
vain. 

On  the  eve  of  a  public  festival,  this  unhappy  lad 
fell  into  the  company  of  a  young  man  who  ostenta- 
tiously displayed  a  watch.  Wachs,  who  did  not 
own  a  watch  himself,  suddenly  conceived  a  desire  to 
do  so.  This  desire  rapidly  grew  into  an  irresistible 
passion.  Happening  to  enter  a  shoemaker's  house 
shortly  after,  to  have  his  boots  mended,  his  eye 
lighted  on  that  gentleman's  watch,  which  hung  upon 
a  nail  in  the  wall  beside  him.  Just  at  that  moment 


190  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

the  shoemaker's  wife  went  out  to  market,  and  the 
children  also  left  the  house  to  play  in  the  garden. 
Wachs  and  the  shoemaker  were  alone.  Impelled 
by  his  passion  to  obtain  a  watch,  the  dissolute  youth 
stole  behind  his  victim,  and  striking  him  with  a 
large  hammer  on  the  temple,  he  killed  him  with  a 
single  blow.  The  wife  returning  shortly  after,  he 
murdered  her  also,  lest  she  should  betray  him.  To 
make  discovery  impossible,  he  killed  "Little  Mi- 
chael," their  son,  and,  as  he  supposed,  their  daughter, 
Catherine;  who,  however,  subsequently  recovered 
from  her  wound,  and  became  the  principal  witness  on 
his  trial,  which  resulted  in  his  decapitation  by  the 
sword.^ 

This  is  an  extreme  case,  I  admit,  but  it  is  valuable 
because  it  shows  the  fearful  weakness  of  the  man 
who  once  surrenders  himself  to  the  control  of  his 
propensities.  It  proves  the  trite  but  terrible  truth, 
that  there  is  no  propensity  which  may  not,  when 
fostered  by  indulgence  and  favored  by  circumstances, 

*  See  Narratives  of  Remarkable  Criminal  Trials.  From  the 
German  of  Anselm  Ritter  Von  Feuerbach.  Harper's  edition. 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  191 

grow  into  an  irresistible  passion,  arid  hurry  a  man 
into  the  commission  of  monstrous  crimes  ! 

Another  consequence  of  vice  is  the  remorseful 
sense  of  shame,  the  guilty  consciousness  of  self-deg- 
radation which  overwhelms  a  young  sinner.  No 
sooner  does  he  quit  the  infamous  haunts  of  slaugh- 
tered innocence,  and  retire  to  the  silence  and  the  sol- 
itude of  his  chamber,  than  the  image  of  his  offence 
fastens  upon  his  soul  with  all  the  tenacity  with 
which  ghoul  and  vampyre  are  said  to  seize  their 
prey.  Who  can  tell  the  full  bitterness  of  the  young 
soul  when  reviewing  its  fall?  The  first  violated 
Sabbath,  or  the  first  revel  over  the  foaming  wine- 
cup,  or  the  first  forbidden  visit  to  the  theatre,  the 
gambler's  den,  or  the  chamber  of  pollution,  is  fol- 
lowed by  fierce  self-reproaches,  by  unutterable  re- 
grets, by  unspeakable  stingings  of  conscience !  With 
eyes  downcast,  hands  clasped,  and  heart  burning 
with  anguish,  the  young  man  cries,  "  What  have  I 
done  ?  Fool  that  I  was,  to  listen  to  my  tempters  ! 
What  would  my  mother  feel,  if  she  knew  my  guilt  ? 
How  can  I  ever  look  her  in  the  face  again,  with  this 


192  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

spot  upon  my  soul  ?     And  oh,  if  I  should  die  in  this 
guilty  state  !     Alas !  alas !  I  am  undone  !  *' 

Thus  do  showers  of  burning  thoughts  fall  upon 
his  tortured  soul  with  a  severity  which  Coleridge 
compares  to  "  needle-points  of  frost  drizzling  on  o 
bald  and  feverish  head."  At  length,  with  many  a 
weak  resolve  to  go  no  further  in  sin,  he  falls  asleep. 
When  he  awakes,  his  terrors  have  departed.  His 
propensities  resume  their  sway,  and  he  is  hurried 
into  blacker  transgressions.  By  persevering  in  sin, 
he  succeeds  in  hardening  his  conscience,  until  for 
the  time  being  it.  ceases  its  terrors,  and  he  sins  on, 
"  neither  fearing  God  nor  regarding  man." 

It  is  impossible  to  predict  with  certainty  the 
specific  mode  by  which  an  abandoned  youth  will 
reach  the  goal  of  ruin.  Neither  can  it  be  told  how 
long  or  how  short  will  be  his  career.  These  thingy 
depend  upon  which  propensity  plays  the  tyrant  over 
him;  upon  his  opportunities  for  self-indulgence, 
upon  his  caution ;  upon  many  circumstances  entirely 
beyond  his  control.  But  this  much  is  certain, — with 
out  speedy  and  effectual  reform,  HTS  RUIN  is  A  MORJH 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  193 

CERTAINTY  !  How  long  it  will  be  delayed,  or  in  what 
form  it  will  come,  cannot  be  predicted ;  but  come  it 
will,  as  surely  as  consequence  succeeds  to  cause. 
For,  "  though  hand  join  in  hand,  the  wicked  shall  not 
go  unpunished." 

Sometimes  the  ruin  of  a  vicious  youth  overtakes 
him  with  the  swiftness  of  an  arrow,  as  the  following 
fact  will  show.  A  fine,  noble-looking  youth,  —  I  will 
call  him  REGINALD,  —  who  had  been  piously  trained, 
left  his  virtuous  home  to  dwell  in  a  large  city.  At 
first,  every  returning  Sabbath  beheld  him  an  atten- 
tive listener  in  the  house  of  God.  But  he  fell  into 
the  company  of  the  wicked ;  resisted  their  seductions 
a  while,  then  yielded.  He  now  forsook  the  church 
for  the  haunts  of  pleasure.  Being  ardent  in  his  tem- 
perament, he  partook  eagerly  of  every  form  of  sin. 
The  flowing  bowl,  the  theatre,  the  gambling  saloon, 
the  brothel,  witnessed  his  fiery  zeal  in  the  ways  of 
iniquity.  But  his  race  was  short,  —  his  ruin  terrible 
and  speedy.  Three  months  of  guilty  abomination 
sufficed  to  break  down  his  physical  constitution,  and 
*o  lay  his  fine  and  noble  form  a  pitiful  wreck,  upon 
13 


194  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

a  dying  bed.  Let  us  take  our  stand  beside  him  and 
witness  the  end  of  a  vicious  life. 

Mark  his  pale,  attenuated  face,  covered  with  blotch- 
es, and  distorted  with  the  combined  agonies  of  mind 
and  body !  How  languid  and  dull  are  his  glassy 
eyes !  How  painful  his  breathing  !  How  that  deep, 
hoarse  cough  incessantly  racks  his  almost  fleshless 
body !  But  hearken !  some  one  raps  at  the  door ! 
See !  the  patient  turns  his  eyes  upon  the  intruder, 
with  an  expression  of  horror ;  then  nervously  clutch- 
ing the  bed-clothes,  he  buries  his  head  beneath  the 
folds,  and  obstinately  refuses  all  conversation  ! 

Who  is  this  visiter  ?  His  countenance  combines 
commanding  dignity  with  bland  benevolence,  and  is 
anything  but  offensive.  Why,  then,  does  the  dying 
youth  feel  so  disturbed  by  his  presence  ?  The  reader 
will  understand  the  reason,  when  he  learns  that  he 
is  Reginald's  former  pastor.  His  person  revives  the 
memory  of  purer  days,  and  the  guilty  sufferer  dares 
not  to  see  him. 

As  Reginald  will  not  converse,  the  good  man  offers 
a  prayer,  and,  with  his  hand  upon  the  door-latch,  is 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  195 

preparing  to  leave.  But  now  the  dying  victim  un- 
covers his  face,  sits  up  in  the  bed,  and  cries  : 

"  Stop  a  minute,  sir  !  " 

The  pastor  returns  to  the  bed-side.  The  sufferer's 
effort  has  exhausted  his  strength,  and  he  has  fallen 
back  upon  the  pillows.  As  the  minister  bends  over 
to  catch  his  words,  Reginald  throws  his  skinny  arms 
around  his  neck,  and  whispers,  with  awful  emphasis, 
"  I  'M  LOST  !  "  Then,  burying  himself  once  more 
beneath  the  clothes,  he  resolutely  refuses  all  further 
conversation.  Reader,  that  utterance  was  his  last, 
for  he  never  spoke  again !  How  awfully  did  that 
dear,  ruined  young  man  verify  the  saying  of  Solo- 
mon :  "  With  her  much  fair  speech  she  causeth  him  to 
yield  ;  with  the  flattering  of  her  lips  she  forcedMm. 
He  goeth  after  her  straightway,  as  an  ox  goeth  to  tJie 
slaughter,  or  as  a  fool  to  the  conviction  of  the  stocks  ; 
till  a  dart  strike  through  his  liver.  As  a  bird  hast- 
eth  to  the  snare,  and  knoweth  not  that  it  is  for  his 
life  !  " 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  such  cases  as  this  are 
far  from  being  rare.  Vice  is  a  swift  and  sure  de- 


196  YOUITG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

stroyer,  and  a  youth  who  embraces  her  is  as  the 
early  flower  exposed  to  the  untimely  frost.  Those 
who  have  perished  thus  are  named  "Legion,"  for 
they  are  many,  —  enough  to  convince  every  novice 
that  he  has  no  security  that  he  shall  escape  a  similar 
fate. 

Nor  is  it  always  by  disease  alone  a  young  profli- 
gate finds  a  speedy  and  fatal  termination  to  his 
career.  Ruin  is  a  Briareus  with  many  hands.  As 
some  large  rivers  debouch  to  the  ocean  through  many 
mouths,  so  has  vice  many  streams  that  lead  to  death. 
The  vices,  like  the  Furies,  are  sisters,  and  no  man 
can  espouse  one  without  admitting  the  rest  into  his 
home.  Hence,  no  sinner  can  tell  whither  his  beset- 
ting sin  will  conduct  him.  Let  the  following  fact 
illustrate  and  enforce  this  thought. 

A  young  man,  whom  I  will  name  ARTHUR,  nine- 
teen years  of  age,  educated,  handsome,  of  fascinating 
manners,  and  manly  spirit,  visited  a  certain  city  in 
search  of  business.  There  he  unhappily  fell  into 
dissolute  society,  and  began  to  run  the  giddy  rounds 
of  deep  dissipation.  A  few  months  served  to  exhaust 


VICE    AND   ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  197 

his  finances  and  to  run  him  into  debt.  A  bill  lay 
upon  his  table,  one  day,  which  he  was  required  to 
pay  the  next  morning.  Not  knowing  what  to  do, 
he  took  the  fatal  step  of  selling  an  opera-glass,  which 
he  had  borrowed  from  a  gay  friend;  and  thus  paid  the 
bill.  His  friend  called  for  the  glass.  Arthur,  though 
much  confused,  frankly  confessed  his  fault,  and 
promised  to  obtain  funds  from  home  to  remunerate 
the  loser.  But  his  quondam  friend  had  the  heart  of 
a  Shylock,  and  hurried  the  astonished  and  mortified 
young  man  to  the  police  court,  charging  him  with 
the  crime  of  stealing  the  opera-glass.  After  a  sum- 
mary hearing,  he  was  committed  for  trial,  and  im- 
mured in  jail. 

He  was  placed  in  a  cell  with  another  prisoner,  —  a 
young  man.  As  soon  as  he  found  himself  there,  the 
full  measure  of  his  disgrace  rose  before  his  agonized 
mind.  Casting  himself  to  the  ground,  he  cried  to 
his  fellow-prisoner,  in  tones  of  exquisite  anguish  : 

"  Cut  my  throat !  kill  me  !  trample  me  to  death  ! 
My  parents  !  How  can  I  ever  look  them  in  the  face 
again  ? " 


198  YOUNG   MANS   COUNSELLOR. 

He  grew  more  and  more  excited,  beat  his  head 
upon  the  stone  floor  with  such  violence  that  his 
companion  seized  him  and  called  lustily  for  aid. 
The  turnkey  came,  and  judging  from  his  paroxysms 
that  he  was  in  a  fever,  called  for  a  physician,  who 
pronounced  him  to  be  in  imminent  danger  of  dying. 
A  distinguished  philanthropist  was  sent  for,  who 
bailed  the  young  man,  and  conveyed  him  to  his  own 
residence.  Touched  by  the  affectionate  kindness  of 
this  benevolent  man,  the  youth  stated  that  his  father 

was  a  clergyman,  and  his  relatives  wealthy.     The 

/ 
peril  of  life  being  very  great,  his  generous  protector 

wrote  an  account  of  the  sad  affair,  and  summoned 
the  father  to  his  son's  death-bed. 

While  the  letter  was  on  its  way,  during  an  inter- 
val of  calmness,  he  was  asked  if  he  would  not  like  to 
see  his  father  once  more. 

"  O  no  !  Let  me  die  rather  —  kill  me !  I  have 
brought  dishonor  upon  his  gray  hairs,  and  how  can  I 
look  upon  his  face  again?  Let  me  die,  but  have  pity 
on  my  poor  father !  " 


VICE    AND   ITS   CONSEQUENCES.  199 

The  father  arrived.  "  Your  father  is  below,  wait- 
ing to  see  you,"  said  his  attendant. 

The  sufferer  uttered  a  piercing  groan,  covered  his 
face,  and  exclaimed : 

"  I  can't  see  him  !  I  can't  —  I  can't !  Speak  to 
him  for  me  ;  tell  him  I  died  —  " 

Here  the  venerable  father  entered,  and  stood  trans- 
fixed with  agony  beside  his  dying  son!  What  a 
scene  !  That  noble  boy,  that  cherished  child,  pol- 
luted with  profligate  habits,  disgraced  by  crime, 
dying  of  mental  torture  —  and  that  aged  minister, 
that  white-haired  father,  gazing  unutterable  pity,  and 
pierced  with  anguish  that  beggars  description  !  Can 
aught  of  misery  be  fancied  more  exquisite  or  excru- 
ciating ?  Yet,  young  man,  that  scene  grew  out  of 
just  such  indulgences  as  you  are  feverishly  panting 
to  enjoy.  Pause,  I  beseech  you  !  Examine  well  the 
ground  you  long  to  tread*  Inquire  seriously  if  you 
are  prepared  to  receive  the  consequences  before  you 
set  the  cause  in  motion.  For  as  surely  as  you  aban- 
don virtue,  sooner  or  later,  "The  Lord  shall  give  thee 
a  trembling  heart ^  and  failing  of  eyes,  and  sorrow  of 


200  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

mind,  and  thy  life  shall  hang  in  doubt  before  thee, 
and  thou  shalt  fear  day  and  night.  In  the  morning 
thou  shalt  say,  would  God  it  were  eveni7ig ;  and  in 
the  evening,  would  God  it  were  morning :  for  the 
fear  of  thine  heart  wherewith  thou  shalt  fear ;  and 
for  the  sight  of  thine  eyes  which  thou  shalt  see  !  " 

But  a  vicious  life  does  not  always  come  to  so  sud- 
den and  speedy  a  conclusion.  God  often  suffers  the 
sinner  to  fill  up  a  large  measure  of  sin,  and  to  place 
the  hour  of  retribution  far  off.  When  this  is  the 
case,  the  heart  grows  stout  and  bold.  The  con- 
science becomes  blind,  and  dead  to  feeling.  The 
fear  of  God  is  entirely  cast  off.  Religion  is  treated 
as  a  fable.  The  Gospel  is  trampled  under  foot,  and 
the  man,  made  brutish,  vile  and  abominable,  becomes 
"  a  vessel  of  wrath  fitted  to  destruction  !  " 

Now,  I  doubt  not  that  the  reader,  in  the  plenitude 
of  his  self-confidence,  has  thought  himself  strong 

enough  to  enter  on  vicious  pursuits,  without  com- 

/ 
mitting  those  crimes  which  destroy  reputation,  and 

lead  to  the  prison.  Well,  he  may  stop  short  on  the 
brink.  The  thing  is  abstractly  possible, — just  as  o 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  201 

man  might  gallop  a  furious  horse  down  a  steep  path 
which  terminates  at  a  precipice  with  a  deep  gulf 
oeneath,  and  rein  up  his  beast  at  the  very  brink. 
But  the  peril  would  be  so  imminent,  none  but  a  mad- 
man would  venture  on  the  experiment.  So  you  may 
give  passion  the  reins  until  it  carries  you  close  to 
crime,  and  then  resume  the  bridle  and  save  yourself. 
The  risk  is  fearful,  however,  and  no  prudent  youth 
will  dare  to  incur  it. 

There  are  two  facts  which  the  uninitiated  young 
.  sinner  does  not  duly  weigh.  The  first  is,  that  vice 
so  deadens  the  moral  sense,  and  so  blinds  the  mind, 
that  crime  does  not  appear  the  same  horrible  thing  as 
it  did  in  the  happy  days  of  innocence.  The  second 
is,  that  the  cost  of  illicit  pleasures  exceeds  the  re- 
sources of  most  young  sinners.  Once  taken  in  their 
net,  the  foolish  youth  is  too  weak  to  break  the 
entangling  meshes.  He  must  sin  on.  Hence,  he 
must  have  money.  Honorably  he  cannot  obtain  it. 
The  card-table,  the  dice-box,  billiards,  lotteries,  and 
other  modes  of  gambling,  invite  him  to  replenish  his 
empty  purse  by  their  aid.  The  poor  dupe  tries,  and 


202  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

finds  himself  fleeced  and  reduced  to  extremities. 
What  is  to  be  done  ?  He  has  gone  too  far  to  retrace 
his  steps.  Yet,  he  must  extricate  himself  in  some 
way.  The  tempter  whispers  the  guilty  thought  of 
robbing  his  employers.  He  starts  back  at  the  mere 
idea  of  such  an  act.  But  his  debts  are  pressing  upon 
him,  his  habits  are  expensive,  his  passions  imperious. 
Again  the  tempter  whispers  in  his  heart.  The  idea 
haunts  him  by  day  and  by  night,  until  by  familiarity 
its  malign  aspect  loses  its  power  to  terrify.  The 
attempt  is  resolved  on,  but  on  some  specious  mental 
pretence  of  afterwards  restoring  what  is  to  be  taken. 
The  opportunity  offers  itself.  The  deed  is  done,  and 
the  young  sinner  trembles  to  find  himself  a  thief ! 
Gradually  his  fears  depart.  Finding  himself  unde- 
tected, he  steals  again,  until  it  becomes  his  settled 
practice  to  embezzle  the  property  of  his  employer,  in 
order  to  pay  the  expenses  of  his  lusts.  Discovery 
comes,  at  length,  and  he  who  began  his  career  by 
going  to  a  theatre  ends  it  in  the  shame  and  igno- 
miny of  a  prison.  As  said  a  weeping  and  disconso- 
late mother,  one  day,  to  a  minister,  who,  seeing  her 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  203 

distress,  asked,  "What  is  the  matter  with  you, 
madam  ?  " 

"  O  my  child !  my  child !  He  is  just  committed 
to  prison !  0,  that  theatre !  He  was  a  virtuous, 
kind  youth,  until  the  theatre  proved  his  ruin."  Nor 
was  this  woman's  son  an  exception.  The  commis- 
sioners of  the  Pentonville  prison,  in  Great  Britain, 
affirm  that  ninety-five  per  cent,  of  the  criminals  in 
British  jails  were  made  so  by  vices,  whose  cost,  ex- 
ceeding their  incomes,  led  to  the  perpetration  of 
crime !  How  dangerous  a  thing  is  vice  !  Who  is 
safe,  when  so  many  have  fallen  ?  Young  reader, 
beware  !  Crime  and  imprisonment  are  the  legitimate 
consequences  of  sinful  indulgences.  Hence,  if  you 
shudder  at  the  idea  of  being  the  inmate  of  a  jail, 
beware  of  the  first  step  in  the  way  thereto. 

Would  you  know  somewhat  of  the  effects  of  vice 
upon  that  physical  constitution  which  it  does  not 
immediately  destroy  ?  Then,  mark  that  man  who  is 
slowly  toiling  along  the  street,  leaning  upon  his  cane. 
With  what  difficulty  he  drags  one  emaciated  leg 
after  the  other !  How  thin  and  angular  are  his  form 


204  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

and  features !  Every  slow  movement  proclaims  his 
excessive  languor.  There  is  no  health  or  vigor  in 
his  motion.  His  breath  is  short.  A  weak,  hollow 
cough,  distresses  him.  His  face  is  pale  as  death. 
His  eyes,  covered  with  a  glassy  film,  have  no  expres- 
sion. His  whole  appearance  is  that  of  abject  misery. 
But  see,  he  has  seated  himself  on  that  door-step  to 
rest!  Let  us  question  him  as  to  his  sufferings. 
Hearken,  as  in  a  low,  husky  voice,  he  details  his  list 
of  pains  !  "  My  head,"  he  says,  "  is  always  dizzy. 
I  have  a  constant  headache.  My  memory  is  gone, 
and  I  cannot  confine  my  mind  to  any  subject  of 
thought.  I  find  it  difficult  to  apprehend  an  idea  j 
labor  or  study  are  loathsome  to  me.  My  strength  is 
all  gone.  My  back,  my  sides,  my  limbs,  are  in  con- 
stant pain,  and  my  mind  and  body  are  sinking  into 
utter  ruin  ! " 

This  is  terrible.  Suppose  we  ask,  "  What  brought 
you  into  this  state,  friend  ?  " 

Hear  his  reply,  as  he  gazes  upon  us  with  a  look 
of  unutterable  despair  :  "7  brought  it  all  upon  myself, 

BY  INDULGENCE  IN  SOLITARY  AND  SOCIAL  VICES  !  " 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  205 

Sad  confession  !  Nevertheless,  my  picture  is  from 
life.  Vice  makes  war  upon  every  function  in  the 
human  body.  The  brains,  the  heart,  the  lungs,  the 
liver,  the  spine,  the  limbs,  the  bones,  the  flesh,  every 
part  and  faculty,  are  overtaxed,  worn,  weakened,  by 
the  terrific  energy  of  passion  and  appetite  loosed 
from  restraint,  until,  like  a  dilapidated  mansion,  the 
"  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle"  falls  into  "  ruin- 
ous decay." 

I  have  already  described  the  tumult  awakened  in 
the  conscience  of  a  young  profligate  by  his  first  steps 
in  the  wrong  direction ;  and  also  the  agony,  despond- 
ency and  misery,  occasioned  by  a  discovery  of  his 
inability  to  break  his  self-imposed  bonds.  The  for- 
mer state  of  mind  is  usually  followed  by  one  of  hard- 
ened indifference,  until  the  latter  commences.  But 
this  settled  gloom,  bad  as  it  is,  does  not  compare  in 
its  terribleness  with  the  more  fearful  sufferings  of 
his  heart  when,  toward  the  close  of  earthly  existence, 
he  is  visited  by  the  horrors  of  REMORSE,  that  frown- 
ing "  rock  that  stops  the  current  of  our  thought  to 
God."  Then, 


206  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

"  The  past  lives  o'er  again 
In  its  effects,  and  to  the  guilty  spirit 
The  ever-frowning  present  is  its  image." 

Then  he  understands  the  truth  of  Coleridge's 
striking  lines :  — 

"Just  heaven  instructs  us,  with  an  awful  voice, 
That  conscience  rules  us,  e'en  against  our  choice. 
Our  inward  monitress  to  guide  and  warn, 
If  listened  to  ;  but,  if  repelled  with  scorn, 
At  length,  as  dire  remorse  she  reappears, 
Works  in  our  guilty  hopes  and  selfish  fears, 
Still  bids  remember  and  still  cries  too  late, 
And  while  she  scares  us,  goads  us  to  our  fate." 

How  much  a  sinner  suffers  from  the  sting  of 
remorse,  no  pen  can  describe,  no  heart  can  fancy. 
"  The  agonies  inflicted  by  the  wolf  that  fed  on  the 
life-stream  of  the  Spartan,  the  poison  injected  by  the 
tooth  of  the  viper,  or  the  three-fanged  sting  of  the 
scorpion,  are  as  nothing  when  contrasted  with  the 
stings  of  an  accusing  conscience.  Most  truly  has  an 
American  writer  observed  that  there  is  no  manliness 
or  fortitude  can  bear  up  under  the  horrors  of  guilt. 
The  thing  is  done ;  yet  it  rises,  in  all  its  vivid  color- 


VICE    AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  207 

ing,  to  the  soul  that  has  incurred  it,  overwhelming  it 
with  remorse  and  despair.  The  reproaches  of  con- 
science, once  thoroughly  aroused,  can  neither  be 
silenced  nor  borne.  No  human  spirit  can  sustain  its 
energies  under  such  a  burden,  when  it  really  comes." 
Hence,  notorious  criminals,  who  have  denied  their 
crimes  while  stretched  on  racks  and  wheels,  have 
subsequently  surrendered  themselves  to  justice 
through  the  fiercer  torments  of  remorse.  To  con- 
firm these  remarks,  I  submit  two  or  three  confessions 
which  fell  from  the  lips  of  some  wretched  victims  of 
remorse. 

"  I  would  die,  —  I  dare  not  die  !  I  would  live,  —  1 
dare  not  live !  0,  what  a  burden  is  the  hand  of  an 
angry  God!"  exclaimed  the  terrified  Viscount  Ken- 
muir,  in  his  dying  moments. 

"  Is  your  mind  at  ease  ? "  asked  Dr.  Turton,  of 
the  departing  Oliver  Goldsmith,  as  he  lay  tossed 
with  an  anguish  deeper  than  what  his  disease  occa- 
sioned. 

"  No,  IT  is  NOT  !  "  was  the  sad  reply  of  the  once 
gay  and  jolly  author  of  "  The  Deserted  Village,' 


208  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

as,  deserted  of  God,  he  fought  his  last  battle  with 
Death. 

"I  feel  the  weight  of  God's  wrath  burning  like 
the  pains  of  hell  within  me,  and  pressing  on  my  con- 
science  with  an  anguish  which  cannot  be  described ! " 
cried  the  apostate  Francis  Spira,  when  writhing  in 
the  agonies  of  death. 

"  My  dear,  you  appear  as  if  your  heart  were  break 
ing,"  said  a  weeping  lady  to  her  dying  infidel  hus- 
band, whose  distress  appeared  to  be  unendurable. 

"  Let  it  break !  Let  it  break !  but  it  is  hard  work 
to  die  ! "  he  replied.  Then  directing  a  glance  toward 
heaven,  he  cried, 

"  Lord,  have  mercy !     Jesus  save  !  "  and  died. 

Now,  all  this  is  most  shocking  to  contemplate. 
What,  then,  must  its  endurance  be  ?  And  it  is 
nothing  more  than  the  harvest  gathered  from  a 
vicious  life.  Every  illicit  enjoyment  is  a  seed  of 
such  torment  as  this.  The  guilty  revel  over  the 
wine-cup,  the  scoff  at  religion,  the  sneer  at  piety 
the  hilarity  of  the  dance,  the  embrace  of  lust,  the 
violated  Sabbath,  the  profane  expression,  are  each 


VICE    AND   ITS    CONSEQUENCES.  209 

and  all  the  substances  of  those  images  which  rise  up, 
grim  and  ghostly,  to  torment  the  remorseful  sinner. 
If,  then,  my  dear  young  friend,  you  tremble  at  the 
consequences,  shun  the  cause — sow  not  the  seed  — 
touch  not  the  sin — stray  not  from  the  side  of  virtue  ! 
But  if  you  will,  despite  of  all  warning  voices,  seek  to 
know  the  mysteries  of  vice,  then  I  say  to  you,  in  the 
language  of  inspiration : 

"Rejoice,  oh  young  man,  in  thy  youth  ;  and  let  thy 
heart  cheer  thee  in  the  days  of  thy  youth,  and  walk  in 
the  ways  of  thine  heart,  and  in  the  sight  of  thine  eyes  ; 

BUT  KNOW  THOU  THAT  FOR  ALL  THESE  THINGS  GoD 
WILL  BRING  THEE  INTO  JUDGMENT.  THEREFORE,  PUT 

AWAY  EVIL  FROM  THY  FLESH  ! "  Seek  the  aids  of  pure 
religion.  Cleave  to  purity,  quiet,  and  virtue,  and 
thus  you  "  shall  dwell  safely,  and  shall  be  quiet  from 

fear  of  evil" 

14 


CHAPTER  XI. 

VICE  AND  ITS  SEDUCERS. 

'Come  home !  —  there  is  a  sorrowing  breath 

In  music  since  ye  went ; 
And  the  early  flower-scents  wander  by, 

With  mournful  memories  blent. 
The  tones  in  every  household  voice 

Are  grown  more  sad  and  deep, 
And  the  sweet  word  —  brother—  wakes  a  wish 

To  turn  aside  and  weep." 

HESE    exquisite    lines,  by  MRS. 
HEMANS,  give  a  beautiful  expres- 
sion   to    those    tender    affections 
which    plead   with    every   young 
to  maintain  his  affinity  with 
home    and    its    virtuous    pleasures. 
They  show   the   strength  of  those  re- 
straining   influences   with    which   God 
would  fain  hold  the  young  sinner  back 
from  vice.     All  its  love  and  all  its  friendship 
plead  with  him,  weep  over  him,  wait  for  him. 
Though  by  his  profligacy  he  has  dug  a  gulf 
between  it  anc{  himself,  yet  it  maintains  an  unalien- 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS.  211 

ated  regard,  and  with  open  arms  and  unutterable 
emotion,  cries,  "  Come  home  !  "  Holy  love !  Affec- 
tion almost  divine  !  How  strange,  that  the  voices  of 
lust  and  infamy  should  ever  exert  a  more  controlling 
power  over  a  young  man's  spirit  than  these  loving 
voices  of  home  ! 

Yet  so  it  is  in  every  instance  of  youthful  delin- 
quency. The  false-hearted  victims  of  foul  iniquity 
sway  his  soul,  and  render  him  deaf  to  the  pleadings 
of  his  best  and  purest  friends.  His  foolish  heart 
yields  itself  up  to  vicious  seducers,  whose  only  aim  is 
his  destruction.  A  fashionable  popinjay,  a  foppish 
blackguard,  a  gambler,  a  filthy  harlot,  is  permitted  to 
silence  and  push  aside  a  venerable  father,  a  fond 
mother,  a  pure  sister,  and  a  noble  brother !  This 
fact  alone  exhibits  the  hatefulness  of  vice,  and  should 
cause  a  young  man  to  seriously  pause  before  placing 
a  foot  on  the  accursed  threshold  of  its  infamous  tem- 
ple. To  describe  the  seducers  to  vice,  and  to  cau- 
tion my  reader  against  them,  are  my  aims  in  this 
chapter. 

Bad  books  and  impure  pictures  are  among  the  first 


212  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

corrupting  instrumentalities  which  debase  a  young 
mind.  With  the  former  may  be  ranked  the  innu- 
merable novels  which  are  perpetually  issuing  from 
unprincipled  presses ;  all  kinds  of  amorous  poetry ; 
and  a  class  of  filthy  books,  pretending  to  be  medical, 
physiological,  and  instructive,  while  in  reality  they 
are  only  disgusting  stimulants  to  unholy,  prurient 
desires.  Among  the  latter  are  those  engravings  and 
paintings,  whether  in  books  or  papers,  or  on  the  cov- 
ers of  snuff-boxes,  &c.,  which,  from  their  immodesty, 
are  calculated  to  defile  the  mind  and  call  the  latent 
depravity  of  the  heart  into  action.  These  vile  pro- 
ductions of  misdirected  art  the  young  man  who 
values  his  moral  character  must  refuse  to  s^e.  If 
they  are  brought  under  his  notice,  he  must  resolutely 
turn  away  his  eyes  from  gazing  upon  them ;  for  aa 
sure  as  he  takes  pleasure  in  them,  he  will  be  undone. 
So  of  novels ;  they  must  be  rejected  with  invincible 
determination. 

But  are  all  novels  to  be  eschewed  ?  Are  not  some 
of  them  pure  both  in  style  and  tendency  ?  To  this 
last  question  I  reply,  it  is  true  that  some  novels  are 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS.  213 

better  than  others ;  in  themselves  they  may  be  un- 
spotted. Yet  in  one  point  they  do  harm ;  they 
create  a  taste  for  fictitious  reading.  This  taste  soon 
acquires  the  intensity  of  a  passion.  The  mind 
acquires  a  craving  for  excitement,  and  thus  the 
youth,  who  begins  by  revelling  among  the  splendid 
paintings  of  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT'S  pen,  or  by  sub- 
jecting himself  to  the  quiet  enchantment  of  FREDRIKA 
BREMER'S  spirit,  will  speedily  seek  the  works  of  more 
impassioned  authors.  He  will  hasten  from  DICKENS 
to  JAMES,  from  James  to  BULWER,  from  Bulwer  to 
AINSWORTH,  from  him  to  EUGENE  SUE,  and  finally 
he  will  steep  his  polluted  mind  in  the  abominations 
of  that  Moloch  among  novelists,  PAUL  DE  KOCK.  By 
this  time  he  is  ready  for  destruction.  By  venturing 
into  the  pleasant  ripple,  he  has  been  tempted  to  sport 
in  the  heaving  breakers,  until,  caught  by  the  resist- 
less under  current,  he  is  borne  out  to  sea,  and  meets 
a  premature  death.  How  much  better  to  have 
avoided  the  ripple !  Young  man,  beware  of  reading 
your  first  novel ! 

But  alas  !  this  counsel  is  probably  too  late.     You 


214  TOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

are  already  under  the  spell  of  the  charmer,  and  can 
hardly  tolerate  these  censures.  Not  that  you  have 
no  doubts  concerning  the  effects  of  such  reading,  but 
you  love  it — passionately  love  it!  You  demand 
proof  of  the  evil  charged  on  these  works. 

Such  proof  is  to  be  found  in  the  experience  of  all 
novel-readers.  Every  such  person  knows  that  they 
corrupt  the  heart,  through  the  imagination.  They 
portray  persons,  characters  and  scenes,  to  the  imag- 
ination, which,  being  viewed  there,  inevitably  bestir 
the  lowest  propensions  of  poor,  fallen  nature.  The 
thief,  the  blasphemer,  the  sceptic,  the  seducer,  the 
gambler,  —  ideal  wretches,  whose  actual  presence  in 
our  home  would  be  deemed  a  disgrace,  —  are  freely 
introduced  into  the  "  chambers  of  imagery,"  and  per- 
mitted to  utter  all  their  filthy  conversation,  and  to  do 
their  disgusting  deeds,  directly  before  the  mind.  Can 
this  be  done  with  impunity  ?  Nay  !  As  well  might 
one  hope  to  handle  melted  pitch  and  avoid  defile- 
ment; for  the  imagination  cannot  be  polluted  by  vile 
images,  without  causing  the  heart  to  give  forth 
depraved  eruptions ! 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS.  215 

These  eruptions  may  not  take  place  at  once. 
They  may  delay  to  show  themselves  for  a  time,  but 
the  igniting  spark  is  there  and  only  awaits  a  proper 
combination  of  circumstances  to  break  forth.  "  Be- 
hold a  fire  smouldering  and  slumbering  amid  a  heap 
of  cinders.  For  a  time  it  makes  no  progress;  it 
dwells  in  darkness.  One  would  suppose  it  had  made 
up  its  mind  for  extinction.  But  judge  not  too  has- 
tily. The  mass  around  has  been  penetrated  by  the 
heat,  and  prepared  for  its  function.  The  fire  has 
been  blending  itself  with  the  cinders,  and  is  ready  to 
break  out.  Stir  them  once  more.  Clear  them  for 
the  draught.  Touch  them  once  more,  and  the  whole 
will  break  out  into  a  conflagration."  Thus  it  is  with 
pernicious  images  in  the  mind.  Their  influence  per- 
meates the  spirit.  They  fire  the  heart ;  they  prepare 
the  senses.  Then  comes  the  guilty  opportunity,  and 
the  breath  of  the  tempter.  The  spark  ignites.  The 
soul  is  in  a  blaze  of  passion.  The  sin  is  committed. 
The  deed  is  done :  and  guilt  binds  its  fearful  burden 
upon  the  conscience,  with  chains  of  triple  steel ! 

DiNTE  has  delicately  described  the  sad  result  of 


216  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

inflaming  the  heart  through  such  vile  books.  In  hik 
imaginary  journey  through  perdition,  he  describes 
•his  interview  with  PAOLO  and  FRANCESCA,  an  Italian 
lord  and  lady  who  were  put  to  death  for  the  crime 
of  adultery.  After  questioning  the  guilty  lady  con- 
cerning her  sin,  he  gives  the  following  lines  as  her 
answer  to  his  inquiries.  She  says  : 

"  One  day 

For  our  delight  we  read  of  Lancelot,* 
How  him  love  thralled.     Alone  we  were,  and  no 
Suspicion  near  us.     Oft  times  by  that  reading 
Our  eyes  were  drawn  together,  and  the  hue 
Fled  from  our  altered  cheek.     But  at  one  point 
Alone  we  fell. 

***** 

' '  The  book  and  writer  both 
Were  GUILT'S  purveyors.     In  its  leaves  that  day 
We  read  no  more." 

The  poet  has  shown,  in  this  exceedingly  delicate 
passage,  how  a  bad  book  became  the  instrument  of 
an  evil  which  cost  the  virtue  and  lives  of  the  parties. 
With  these  views  before  him,  will  any  young  man, 

*The  hero  of  the  old  romance.     He  was  one  of  the  knights  of 
the  famous  Round  Table. 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS. 

who  sets  the  least  value  upon  his  innocency,  dare  to 
run  the  risk  of  losing  it  for  the  sake  of  the  dangerous 
pleasure  afforded  by  a  corrupting  book?  If  my 
young  reader  has  already  fallen  into  the  snare,  let 
him  glance  a  moment  at  his  peril,  and  escape  while 
he  may.  For  though,  by  some  extraordinary  meas- 
ure of  Providence,  he  may  escape  from  utter  ruin, 
yet  he  cannot  by  any  possibility  avoid  a  high  degree 
of  hurt  to  his  intellectual  and  moral  nature.  If,  as 
TENNYSON  has  written,  every  man  may  truly  say, 

"  I  am  a  part  of  all  that  I  have  met ;" 

and  if,  as  a  writer  in  the  Edinburgh  Review  beauti- 
fully remarks,  "the  stream  will  make  mention  of 
its  bed,  —  the  river  will  report  of  those  shores  which, 
sweeping  through  many  regions  and  climes,  it  has 
washed,  —  then  those  currents  of  thought  whose 
sources  lie  afar  off"  must  be  affected  by  the  quality 
of  the  books  through  which  it  has  run.  The  char- 
acter must  be  more  or  less  modified  by  the  intellect- 
ual companionships  of  its  early  years.  Reject, 
therefore,  with  virtuous  horror,  every  book,  however 


218  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

fascinating  or  eloquent  it  may  be,  which  tends  to 
stimulate  any  evil  propensity  of  your  nature.  Turn 
from  it  with  disgust.  It  is  a  seducer  of  virtue,  a 
pander  to  vice,  —  an  evil  to  be  abominated,  shunned 
and  dreaded. 

Next  to  bad  books  comes  the  influence  of  aban- 
doned, companions.  To  seduce  the  innocent  into  a 
depth  of  iniquity  as  deep  as  that  into  which  them- 
selves have  fallen,  is  the  delight  of  bad  men.  Some 
do  this  for  what  they  may  gain  of  their  unhappy 
dupe ;  others,  for  the  fiendish  pleasure  it  affords 
a  depraved  heart  to  see  itself  equalled  in  wickedness 
by  kindred  minds.  Mind,  like  air,  seeks  its  equi- 
librium. Hence,  a  virtuous  youth  may  settle  it  as 
an  indisputable  fact,  that  his  guilty  companions  will 
either  drag  him  down  to  their  level,  or  he  must 
raise  them  up  to  His.  Otherwise,  they  must  cease 
intercourse. 

It  is  rare  that  a  novice  in  iniquity  falls  at  once 
into  the  hands  of  finished  seducers.  Novices  are 
usually  reached  at  first  by  young  men  of  their  own 
age,  who  have  recently  taken  their  first  degrees  in 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS.  219 

glaring  sin.  The  merry,  roystering  jollity  of  such 
sinners,  their  gayety  of  spirit,  their  apparent  happi- 
ness, the  glowing  descriptions  they  give  of  their  fes- 
tivities, the  sly  hints  they  throw  out  at  the  greenness 

of  the  uninitiated,  the  half-playful,  half-earnest  ban- 

/ 
terings  with  which  they  greet  their  bashful  excuses 

for  not  joining  in  their  vices,  are  the  first  seductive 
influences  which  usually  reach  young  men  from  the 
wicked.  By  these  means  they  learn  to  love  their 
society;  they  lose  their  relish  for  the  purity  and 
quiet  of  home ;  they  feel  mortified  at  their  ignorance 
of  iniquitous  practices ;  until,  surrendering  them- 
selves to  the  guidance  of  these  children  of  sin,  they 
take  costly  lessons  for  themselves  in  Sabbath-break- 
ing, in  drinking  revels,  and  in  forbidden  visits  to 
that  pandemonium  of  all  evil,  the  theatre. 

Here,  then,  young  man,  is  the  turning-point  of 
your  destiny.  When  your  heart  first  feels  enchanted 
by  young  men  whom  you  know  to  be  the  occasions 
of  grief  to  their  friends  and  of  suspicion  to  their  em- 
ployers, your  danger  is  imminent  and  extreme.  The 
fact  that  you  fail  to  discern  the  full  enormity  of  their 


220  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

practices,  is  the  sign  that  you  are  marked  for  destruc- 
tion. There  is  a  certain  bird  which  prepares  its 
prey  for  its  talons,  by  fluttering  over  its  head  and 
blinding  its  eyes  with  the  sand  with  which  it  previ- 
ously covers  itself.  The  brilliant  devices  of  gay  sin- 
ners, like  sand,  blinding  your  eyes  to  the  conse- 
quences of  sin,  fit  you  to  be  their  prey.  Now,  there- 
fore, or  never,  is  your  opportunity  to  escape.  Break 
away  at  once  from  their  snares,  or  you  are  undone. 
Once  abandoned  to  their  influence,  you  are  lost. 
They  will  lead  you  from  sin  to  sin,  until  you  are  as 
highly  accomplished  in  the  arts  of  vice  as  the  worst. 
Remember,  that  "  evil  companions  will  blight  in  you 
the  delicate  flower  of  innocence,  which  diffuses  itself 

around  youth  as  a  sweet  perfume." 
* 

Among  the  more  finished  seducers  to  vice  are  the 

gambler,  the  libertine,  and  the  sceptic.  These  are 
walking  pestilences,  less  merciful  to  their  victims 
than  the  howling  wolf  to  the  bleating  lamb.  Woe 
unto  the  young  man  who  falls  into  their  power ! 

The  gambler  is  usually  a  drunkard.     He  needs 
the  stimulus  of  spirits  to  sustain  the  excitements  of 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS.  221 

the  card-table.  He  has  no  principles  of  honor,  or 
integrity ;  for  cheating  is  his  trade.  He  has  no  pity. 
His  heart  is  as  adamant.  He  will  fleece  .his  victim 
of  the  last  penny  he  has  in  the  world,  though  he 
knows  the  poor  dupe  has  a  starving  family  at  home, 
and  will  either  go  forth  from  his  den  to  become  a 
robber,  or  to  rush  unbidden  into  the  presence  of  his 
God.  He  has  the  body  of  a  man,  but  the  spirit  of  a 
devil.  It  is  his  meat  and  his  drink  to  destroy  and 
ruin  his  fellow-creatures.  Yet,  this  is  the  man  who 
will  greet  a  young  man  with  smiles  and  with  flattery ; 
who  will  praise  his  skill,  laud  his  courage,  and  pre- 
dict his  success  at  the  gaming-table.  This  is  the 
man  to  whom  silly  youths  surrender  themselves. 
Will  you,  my  reader,  study  this  etching  well  ?  Im- 
print it  on  your  memory,  and,  if  ever  you  are  unhap- 
pily lured  into  his  den,  call  it  up  in  its  freshness,  and 
let  it  hold  you  back  from  becoming  either  his  victim 
or  his  representative. 

The  libertine  is  a  beast  in  human  form.  He  is  a 
man  enslaved  in  chains,  self-wrought  and  riveted  by 
his  own  hands.  The  dignity  of  his  manhood  is 


222  YOUNG    MAN'S   COUPsSELLOR. 

obliterated.  Every  noble  human  quality,  every  ele- 
vating attribute  of  character,  and  every  God-like  trait, 
are  defaced,  blurred  and  buried  underneath  the  teem- 
ing vices  of  sensuality.  His  very  aspect  proclaims 
his  deep  degradation.  In  place  of  the  calm  intel- 
lectuality which  robes  a  virtuous  countenance  with 
grace  and  splendor,  is  the  downcast,  expressionless 
look  of  the  mere  animal.  His  neglected  and  stunted 
soul,  long  enchained,  like  a  galley-slave,  by  the 
tyrannical  senses  and  passions,  seems  to  have  lost  its 
high  powers  of  reasoning  and  willing,  and  to  tamely 
endure  a  bondage  it  cannot  escape.  A  corrupt  and 
loathsome  wretch,  the  libertine  sins  on,  until  his 
filthy  body  tumbles,  a  heap  of  ruins,  into  an  oblivious 
grave. 

Do  such  disgusting  creatures  as  these  ever  become 
the  seducers  of  virtuous  young  manhood  ?  They 
do  !  For  even  they  can  lure  with  the  tongue. 
They  can  draw  inflaming  pictures  to  the  fancy ',-  they 
can  sneer  at  the  ignorance  of  innocence ;  they  can 
persuade  the  unwary  youth  to  venture  across  the 
threshold  of  infamy.  They  find  infamous  pleasure 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS.  223 

in   the  overthrow  of  virtuous  resolve.     Woe,  there- 
fore, to  him  who  dares  to  venture  into  their  society ! 

They  begin  their  efforts  by  hints,  and  as  TUPPER 

% 
properly  remarks, 

"  Hints  shrewdly  strown  mightily  disturb  the  spirit, 
The  sly  suggestion  toucheth  nerves,  and  nerves  contract  the 

fronds, 
And  the  sensitive  mimosa  of  affection  trembleth  to  its  root  " 

Libertines  understand  this  principle.  Hence,  they 
are  careful  to  captivate  by  sly  innuendoes,  and  not  to 
disgust  by  gross  description.  When  their  victim  is 
sufficiently  blunted  in  his  moral  sensibility,  and  ex- 
cited in  his  passion,  they  lead  him,  half  reluctant, 
half  willing,  into  the  path  of  the  "  strange  woman." 
The  word  of  God  graphically  describes  the  unhappy 
simpleton,  who  suffers  himself  to  be  thus  beguiled  : 

"  I  beheld,"  says  the  wise  man,  "  among  the  sim- 
ple ones ;  I  discerned  among  the  youths  A  YOUNG 
MAN  TOID  OF  UNDERSTANDING,  passing  through  the 
street  near  her  corner ;  and  he  went  the  way  to  her 
house,  in  the  twilight,  in  the  evening,  in  the  black 
and  dark  night." 


224  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

How  striking  is  this  picture !  How  life-like  its' 
pencilling  of  the  young  man  who  is  laboring  to  break 
down  the  last  bulwark  of  virtue  in  his  soul !  His 
already  polluted  mind,  brought  into  subjection  by  the 
baser  passions,  impels  him,  when  the  sun  is  down,  to 
venture  within  the  precincts  of  iniquity.  He  walks 
around  the  place  of  vile  resort,  as  if  inviting  the 
temptation  of  the  wretched  creatures  who  abide 
there.  Later  in  the  evening,  he  repeats  his  walk ; 
just  as  the  moth  returns  to  the  flame  of  the  lamp. 
At  length,  the  hour  most  fitted  for  crime  arrives,  — 
"  the  black  and  dark  night."  And  continues  Solo- 
mon, "  Behold  there  met  him  a  woman  with  the 
attire  of  an  harlot,  and  subtile  of  heart.  So  she 
caught  him  and  kissed  him,  and  with  an  impudent 
face  said  unto  him  :  '  Come,  let  us  take  our  fill  of 
love  until  the  morning.'  With  her  much  fair  speech 
she  caused  him  to  yield,  with  the  flattering  of  her 
lips  she  forced  him.  HE  GOETH  AFTER  HER  STRAIGHT- 
WAY, AS  AN  OX  GOETH  TO  THE  SLAUGHTER,  OR  AS  A 
FOOL  TO  THE  CORRECTION  OF  THE  STOCKS  !  " 

Such  is  the  process  of  ruin.     Let  the  reader  study 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS.  225 

this  description  until  he  feels  an  irrepressible  loathing 
toward  mat  impudent  seducer  of  virtue,  and  a  terri- 
ble dread  of  standing  in  the  place  of  that  simple 
youth.  For,  awful  indeed  is  the  fate  that  awaits 
him.  His  sin  will  cause  "#  dart  to  strike  through 
his  liver  !  "  The  house  he  enters  is  "  THE  WAY  TO 

HELL,    GOING    DOWN     TO     THE     CHAMBERS     OF     DEATH." 

The  feet  of  the  woman  he  follows  "GO  DOWN  TO 

DEATH  :  HER  STEPS  TAKE  HOLD  ON  HELL."   Her  power 

is  so  resistless,  that  "  none  that  go  to  her  return 
again :  neither  take  they  hold  of  the  paths  of  life" 
She  binds  them  fast  in  her  bonds,  until  they  "  mourn 
<it  the  last  when  THEIR  FLESH  AND  THEIR  BODY  ARE 

CONSUMED  !  " 

Are  not  these  fearful  descriptions  sufficient  to  call 
a  vow  from  your  heart,  young  man,  never  to  fall  into 
such  hands  ?  or  to  induce  you,  if  you  are  deceived 
by  some  diabolical  wretch,  as  was  a  young  man  I 
will  call  PETER  PERCY,  and  led  to  the  snare,  to 
burst  it  and  depart  ?  Peter  was  conducted  by  a 
designing  companion  into  a  house  of  ill  repute,  whose 

character  he  did  not  even  suspect.     His  pretended 
15 


226  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR 

friend  led  him  into  a  chamber,  introduced  him  to  a 
poor,  fallen  creature,  and,  turning  away,  locked  the 
door,  and  left  him,  as  he  thought,  a  sure  prey  to  the 
charmer.  But  virtue  was  strong  in  Peter's  soul 
He  saw  his  danger  at  a  glance.  To  parley  was  to 
fall.  Running  to  the  window,  he  beheld  a  distance 
of  several  feet  between  him  and  the  ground.  To 
leap,  might  make  him  lame  for  life.  To  refrain, 
might  spot  his  soul  forever.  What  is  a  physical 
hurt,  compared  with  moral  pollution  ?  Nothing ! 
So  thought  Peter;  and  he  leaped  from  the  window 
to  the  ground  unhurt.  A  noble  and  manly  act.  It 
probably  saved  Peter's  body  from  destruction,  and  his 
soul  from  hell.  Young  man,  "  Go  thou  and  do  like- 
wise !  "  Ever  be  ready  to  say  to  libertine  or  harlot : 
"  How  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness,  and  sin  against 
God  ? "  Thus  shall  you  "fold  life,  and,  obtain  favor 
gfthe  Lord." 

The  sceptic,  the  third  I  named  among  the  finished 
seducers  to  vice,  is  usually  a  greedy  devourer  of 
souls.  Miserable,  unprincipled,  given  over  to  work 
iniquity,  he  has  an  appetite,  for  ruined  souls,  as  insa  • 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS.  227 

liable  as  the  horse-leech  or  the  grave.  Though 
every  sentence  he  utters  against  God  and  revelation 
stings  his  own  soul  like  an  adder,  yet  he  pours  forth 
his  proud  and  haughty  blasphemies  in  floods  of  irony, 
sarcasm,  and  jests  at  sacred  things.  Furious  in  his 
temper,  he  brooks  no  denial  of  his  monstrous  doc- 
trines. A  mere  sciolist  in  reality,  he  makes  a  great 
show  of  knowledge  by  quoting  a  few  passages  he  has 
picked  up  from  infidel  books,  and  thus  often  con- 
founds the  modest  youth  whom  he  assaults.  Merci- 
less as  a  catamount,  he  would  corrupt  the  purest 
human  mind  on  earth,  though  he  knew  it  would 
thereby  be  brought  down  to  the  misery  of  the  hell 
whose  unceasing  fires  burn  within  his  own  bosom. 
His  grand  instrument  of  seduction  is  contempt.  He 
sneers  at  truth,  and  then  hypocritically  asks  his  in- 
tended victim  if  a  man  of  sense  and  mind  can 
believe  such  nonsense.  Thus,  by  degrees,  he  induces 
young  men  to  grow  proud  of  their  imaginary  superi- 
ority, and  to  feel  ashamed  of  revealed  truth.  This 
accomplished,  the  remainder  of  his  satanic  task  is 
easy;  for  as  waters  flow  readily  when  the  obstructing 


228  YOUNG    MAN'S   COUNSELLOR. 

dam  is  demolished,  so,  when  belief  in  God  and  reve- 
lation is  shaken,  sin  flows  unrestrained  from  the 
depraved  heart. 

Beware,  then,  of  the  sceptic  !  Keep  away  from 
his  person !  Would  you  inhale  the  breath  of  the 
pestilence  ?  Would  you  rush  into  the  folds  of  a 
serpent  ?  Would  you  leap  into  the  enraged  ocean  * 
Yet  either  of  these  things  is  as  proper  to  be  done  as 
to  place  yourself  under  the  influence  of  a  sceptic  ! 
Shun  his  society,  therefore  !  Be  satisfied  to  know 
that  the  best  thing  infidelity  ever  did,  even  for  its 
princes  and  champions,  was  to  corrupt  their  lives  and 
to  fill  them  with  unutterable  remorse.  "LoRD  HER- 
BERT, HOBBES,  LORD  SIIAFTSBURY,  WOOLSTON,  TIN- 
DAL,  CHUBB,  and  LORD  BOLINGBROKE,  were  all  guilty 
of  the  vile  hypocrisy  of  lying."  ROCHESTER  and 
WHARTON  were  profligates.  Woolston  was  a  gross 
blasphemer.  BLOUNT,  a  suicide.  VOLTAIRE  was 
noted  for  "  impudent  audacity,  filthy  sensuality,  per- 
secuting envy,  base  adulation,"  tyranny  and  cruelty. 
ROUSSEAU  was  a  thief,  a  liar  and  a  profligate.^  Need 

*  See  Home's  Introduction,  chap,  i.,  pages  24 — 26. 


VICE    AND    ITS    SEDUCERS.  229 

I  say  more  ?  With  such  historical  examples  before 
his  eyes,  what  young  man  will  dare  to  suffer  a  scep- 
tic to  throw  his  seductive  influences  around  him  ? 
Surely  my  reader  will  flee  from  him  as  for  his  life. 

Evil  companions  are,  therefore,  to  be  totally 
avoided.  Safety  is  to  be  purchased  only  at  the  price 
of  entire  abstinence  from  their  society;  for,  as  he 
who  tastes  his  first  glass  of  intoxicating  drink  has 
no  security  against  becoming  a  drunkard,  so  he 
who  finds  a  little  delight  in  the  society  of  partially 
corrupted  persons  has  abandoned  the  ground*  of 
absolute  safety.  He  is  within  a  charmed  circle. 
The  incantation  has  begun.  The  demon  of  the 
circle  is  nigh.  Soon  will  he  present  the  bond  by 
which  the  young  dupe  will  sign  away  his  virtue,  his 
hopes,  his  soul.  Beware  !  oh,  beware,  then,  of  every 
one  of  the  seducers  to  vice  !  Reject  the  bad  book ; 
turn  away  from  the  vile  picture ;  refuse  your  com- 
pany to  the  wicked !  Seek  God  and  his  children ;  so 
shall  you  happily  escape  the  dangers  of  life,  and  win 
a  ciown  of  eternal  glory  ! 


CHAPTER 

COURTSHIP  AND  MARRIAGE.  ' 

EHOLD  yonder  mass  of  barren 
,rock,  without  a  tuft  of  moss  or 
lichen  upon  its  surface!  The  wind 
rises,  and  a  cloud  of  dust  fills  the 
A  portion  of  this  dust  lodges  in 
numerous  interstices  of  the  rock, 
and  ere  long  a  tiny  tuft  of  moss,  borne 
on  the  wings  of  the  breeze,  or  dropping 
*  from  a  neighboring  tree,  falls  into  a 
crevice  filled  with  dust,  vegetates,  spreads, 
and  covers  the  rock  with  a  carpet  of  green 
The  moss  decays  and  grows  again.  The 
stratum  increases.  Other  plants  spring  up  from 
seeds  wafted  to  the  spot  by  the  ever-changing  wind. 
These  grow  and  rot,  thereby  increasing  the  depth  of 
the  soil,  until,  in  the  progress  of  time,  it  acquires 
depth  sufficient  to  nourish  the  noblest  forest  trees. 


COURTSHIP   AND    MARRIAGE.  231 

These  humble  mosses  also  powerfully  attract  moist- 
ure from  the  clouds,  which,  trickling  through  eveiy 
crevice,  finds  its  way  to  the  lowest  nook,  accumu- 
lates, becomes  first  a  rivulet,  then  a  brook,  a  cascade, 
a  river.  This,  flowing  into  the  ocean,  forms  clouds 
by  evaporation,  and  once  more  falls  to  fertilize  the 
earth. 

Thus  does  an  observant  philosopher  describe  the 
great  results  which  nature  brings  forth  from  small 
beginnings.  Yet,  how  many  never  dream  of  conse- 
quences from  a  cloud  of  dust !  It  is  too  small  a  mat- 
ter to  awaken  a  thought.  So  of  a  myriad  more  of 
nature's  labors.  They  are  the  workings  of  an  Invis- 
ible, Omnipotent  God  —  the  necessary  processes  of 
the  world's  existence.  But  men  pass  blindly  on,  and 
see  nothing  in  them  sufficiently  significant  to  arrest 
their  attention. 

There  is  a  corresponding  blindness  concerning 
many  of  those  human  actions  whose  consequences 
reach  far  into  the  future  of  man's  existence.  The 
sommcncement  of  that  affectionate  intercourse  be- 
tween a  youth  and  a  maiden,  called  courtship,  is  an 


232  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

example.  How  little  is  thought  of  the  first  buddings 
of  love  between  two  young  persons  !  By  the  parents 
it  is  often  deemed  a  fitting  subject  for  joke  and 
laughter.  The  parties  themselves,  conscious  chiefly 
of  a  mutual  attraction,  abandon  themselves  to  roman- 
tic visions  of  future  bliss,  and  to  efforts  to  please  each 
other.  Little  do  they  dream  that  from  their  gay  and 
lightsome  intercourse  is  to  proceed  a  stream  of  ex- 
quisite delight,  or  of  burning  poison,  running  parallel, 
perhaps,  with  their  immortal  existence.  Yet  so  it  is. 
A  life  of  bitter,  bitter  anguish,  or  of  as  much  happi- 
ness as  is  permitted  to  mortals  on  earth,  lies  enclosed 
in  the,  but  too  lightly  esteemed,  state  of  courtship. 
Next  to  marriage,  it  is  the  gravest  and  most  solemn 
affair  relating  to  life  this  side  the  grave. 

Erroneous  views  of  courtship  have  their  founda- 
tion in  low  and  ignoble  ideas  concerning  marriage 
itself.  How  is  marriage  regarded  by  most  young 
men  ?  Alas !  is  it  not  viewed  chiefly  as  a  legal 
method  of  gratifying  the  sexual  appetite?  —  as  "a 
means  of  sensual  gratification,"  —  "for  the  mere 


COURTSHIP    AND    MARRIAGE.  233 

physical  purpose  of  the  continuance  of  the  race?"* 
With  these  views  of  marriage,  is  it  at  all  surprising 
that  the  courtship  which  stands  in  so  intimate  a  rela- 
tion to  it  is  carried  on  in  a  light,  unworthy,  and 
even  impure  spirit  ?  Is  it  wonderful  that  the  parties 
frequently  violate  the  laws  of  modesty,  and  become 
guilty  before  God  and  man  ?  Is  it  strange  that 
moral  and  intellectual  affinities  and  repugnances  are 
overlooked  and  disregarded  ?  Nay,  the  wonder  is, 
that  these  things  are  not  more  common. 

Now,  young  man,  I  wish  you,  as  a  moral  and 
intellectual  creature,  to  open  your  eyes,  and  behold 
with  grateful  wonder  the  noble  designs  of  God, 
which  lie  hidden  beneath  this  question  of  marriage. 
True,  it  has  a  physical  purpose  to  accomplish.  By 
it  our  species  are  to  be  continued  in  the  healthiest 
and  purest  manner.  But  running  parallel  with  this 
is  the  higher,  nobler,  loftier  design  of  developing  the 
purest  affections  of  the  heart,  and  the  loveliest  excel- 
lences of  our  nature.  As  DR.  WARE  has  well  said, 

*  See  a  recent  work  by  Dr.  Ware,  called  "  Hints  to  Youngr  Men 
on  the  True  Relation  of  the  Sexes." 


234  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

"  The  permanent  union  of  one  man  with  one  woman 
establishes  a  relation  of  affections  and  interests  which 
can  in  no  other  way  be  made  to  exist  between  two 
human  beings.  Without  it,  no  individual  can  be 
considered  as  having  answered  the  whole  purpose  of 
his  existence  —  of  having  arrived  at  the  full  develop- 
ment of  which  he  is  capable.  He  is  incomplete  and 
imperfect.  He  has  tendencies,  capacities,  powers  for 
good,  which  have  never  been  called  out,  which  he 
may  not  know  even  to  exist.  Domestic  life,  and 
the  domestic  relations,  are  the  essential  element  of 
human  happiness  and  human  progress,  so  far  as  our 
moral  and  spiritual  character  are  concerned.  From 
the  relation  of  the  sexes  springs  all  that  gives  its 
charm,  its  grace,  its  true  value,  to  human  intercourse. 
It  creates  the  domestic  circle.  It  gives  origin  to  the 
sacred  relation  of  husband  and  wife,  parent  and  child, 
brother  and  sister,  and  those  thousand  endearing 
relations  which  arise  from  them.  Strike  out  from 
the  life  of  man  all  the  hopes,  interests,  and  motives, 
which  grow  out  of  this  relation,  and  what  were  left 


COURTSHIP    AND    MAKRIAGE.  235 

him  but  a  cheerless,  a  desolate,  and  a  merely  brutal 
existence  ? " 

These  are  just  and  elevating  views  of  marriage. 
How  superior  to  those  "  abject  and  licentious  doc- 
trines, destructive  of  the  conjugal  tie,  which  certain 
classes  of  infidels  endeavor  to  spread  abroad  in  the 
world  !  Reject,  with  horror  and  disgust,  such  hide- 
ous teachings  !  They  would  degrade  you  to  the 
level  of  the  brute."  Indulge  purer  and  holier  opin- 
ions, and  you  will  thus  "  give  yourself  no  reason  to 
blush  before  the  chaste  and  faithful  dove,  nor  degrade 
the  sacred  character  imprinted  on  your  brow  by  the 
finger  of  God."  Your  heart  will  give  forth  a  pure 
affection,  worthy  of  your  exalted  nature,  and  fit  to  be 
offered  to  the  spotless  maiden  whose  charms  of  heart 
and  mind  may  attract  you  to  her  side.  And  remem- 
ber you  cannot  entertain  opposite  opinions  without 
debasing  and  degrading  yourself  and  your  betrothed, 
by  the  intercourse  implied  in  courtship.  Neither 
can  your  marriage  be  truly  "  honorable,"  unless  it 
be  contracted  on  these  scriptural  and  exalted  prin- 
ciples. 


236  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

With  these  opinions  deeply  impressed  on  his  mind, 
a  young  man  is  prepared  to  commence  a  truly  virtu- 
ous and  elevating  courtship.  Accidental,  spontane- 
ous and  thoughtless,  as  first  intimacies  between  the 
sexes  are  apt  to  be,  he  will  nevertheless  be  induced 
to  pause  and  reflect  before  acquaintanceship  ripens 
into  a  positive  betrothal.  Looking  at  the  true  ends 
of  marriage,  he  will  inquire  if  the  lady,  towards 
whom  his  love  is  blossoming,  possesses  those  quali- 
ties of  heart  and  intellect  which  are  suited  to  answer 
those  ends.  If  she  does  not,  though  he  may  yield 
to  the  impulses  of  his  passion,  yet  he  will  be  far  more 
likely  to  hesitate,  before  soliciting  her  hand  in  mar- 
riage, than  he  would  be  if  his  views  were  of  that 
degrading  nature  before  animadverted  upon.  And 
if  ever  caution  is  needed,  it  is  here.  Mistake  is  so 
easy.  Undesigned  duplicity  is  so  natural.  The 
lady,  wreathed  in  smiles  and  moving  with  cautious 
effort  to  conceal  defects  of  temper  and  intellect, 
acquires  an  almost  irresistible  influence  over  his 
feelings.  The  still  small  voice  of  the  better  judg- 
ment whispers,  "  Beware  !  "  It  suggests  the  lack  of 


COURTSHIP   AiND    MARRIAGE.  237 

one  adornment,  the  excess  of  a  particular  defect,  the 
absence  of  certain  desirable  qualities  and  attainments 
in  vain.  The  heart  silences  the  cooler  dictates  of 
the  mind ;  the  question  is  put,  the  engagement  made, 
the  vows  exchanged,  the  marriage  celebrated,  and 
the  wretched  parties  learn,  when  too  late,  their  unfit- 
ness  for  each  other ;  and,  too  often,  their  subsequent 
life  is  miserable  beyond  description.  Be  careful, 
therefore,  you^g  man,  at  the  very  beginning.  When 
a  slight  fondness  arises  in  your  heart  toward  any 
particular  lady,  hold  it  in  check  until  you  have  time 
to  discover  what  she  is.  If  manifestly  unfit,  intellect- 
ually, morally,  or  socially,  to  be  your  future  wife, 
stifle  your  affection.  Seek  other  society.  The  pain 
of  such  a  resolution  will  bear  no  comparison  with 
the  agony  consequent  upon  an  imprudent  mar- 
riage. 

Most  young  men  are  chiefly  charmed  by  what  are 
termed  accomplishments  in  young  ladies.  Thrum- 
ming a  piano,  working  on  beads  or  worsted,  smatter- 
ing bad  French,  and  worse  Italian,  are  arts  regarded 
by  the  enraptured  youth  with  strange  admiration, 


238  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

and  he  pronounces  the  lady  performer  a  paragon  of 
all  perfection.  But  he  should  remember  that  these 
things,  pleasing  and  even  beneficial  as  they  are  in 
their  place,  are  miserable  substitutes  for  more  solid 
and  indispensable 'qualities.  For,  as  HANNAH  MORE 
has  well  observed,  "  Though  the  arts  which  embellish 
life  claim  admiration,  yet  when  a  man  of  sense  conies 
to  marry,  it  is  a  companion  he  wants,  and  not  an 
artist.  It  is  not  merely  a  creature  who  can  dress 
and  paint  and  sing ;  it  is  a  being  who  can  comfort 
and  counsel  him ;  one  who  can  reason,  and  reflect, 
and  feel,  and  judge,  and  act ;  one.  who  can  assist  him 
in  his  affairs,  soothe  his  sorrows,  lighten  his  cares, 
purify  his  joys,  and  educate  his  children."  She 
should  be  well  versed  in  the  household  labors  of 
baking,  roasting,  washing,  cleaning  and  sewing ; 
otherwise  she  is  as  unfit  to  be  a  wife  as  "a  shoe- 
maker would  be  to  navigate  a  man-of-war  across  the 
Atlantic."  Therefore, 

'  Take  heed  that  what  charmeth  thee  is  real,  nor  springeth  of 

thine  own  imagination : 

And  suffer  not  trifles  to  win  thy  love,  for  a  wife  is  thine  unto 
death  ; 


COURTSHIP   AND   MARRIAGE.  239 

The  harp  and  voice  may  thrill  thee,  —  sound  may  enchant  thine 
ear,  . 

But  consider  thou,  the  hand  will  wither,  and  the  sweet  notes  turn 
to  discord  ; 

The  eye  so  brilliant  at  even  may  be  red  with  sorrow  in  the  morn- 

ing  5 

And  the  sylph-like  form  of  elegance  must  writhe  in  the  cramping* 
of  pain." 

Seek  for  substantial  as  well  as  artistical  excel- 
lences in  her  you  would  make  your  wife.  She  should 
be  frugal,  not  wasteful ;  for  an  extravagant  wife  will 
bring  embarrassment,  if  not  poverty  itself,  into  your 
habitation  ;  her  ambition  for  costly  dress,  costly  fur- 
niture, costly  living,  will  empty  your  purse,  ruin 
your  business,  introduce  you  to  the  insolvent  debtor's 
court ;  or,  worse  than  all,  it  will  instal  the  demon  of 
discontent  by  your  fireside.  She  must  be  industri- 
ous ;  for  a  lazy  woman  is  always  fretful,  odious  and 
disgusting.  Who  could  endure  a  yawning,  slipshod, 
sauntering,  sleepy  wife  ?  She  should  be  grave  and 
sober  in  her  demeanor.  The  gay  romp,  the  rattling, 
laughing  coquette,  may  be  very  amusing  at  a  party, 
but  she  is  usually  dull  at  home.  The  gayest  and 


240  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

liveliest  in  society  are  frequently  the  most  unhappy 
by  the  quiet  fireside.  She  must  be  modest ;  for 
"  How  beautiful  is  modesty  !  —  it  winneth  upon  all 
beholders."  A  young  woman  who  will  permit  an 
unchaste  word  or  hint  to  be  uttered  to  her,  ever 
from  her  betrothed,  or  will  herself  give  utterance  to 
an  impure  suggestion,  is  unworthy  of  your  love. 
She  is  an  unsafe  person  to  be  admitted  within  the 
sacred  sphere  of  marriage.  She  must  be  intelligent 
and  sensible  ;  if  otherwise,  it  will  be  very  difficult  to 
maintain  that  esteem  for  her  which  is  the  basis  of 
genuine  and  lasting  love.  An  ignorant,  blundering, 
silly  woman,  is  sure  to  expose  her  husband  to  inces- 
sant mortification,  and  to  excite  contempt  and  scorn 
in  his  breast  towards  her.  She  should  be  of  a 
cheerful  and  an  amiable  disposition;  since  no  nui- 
sance is  more  intolerable  than  a  scolding,  complaining, 
contentious,  woman.  You  had  better  be  chained  to 
the  galleys,  or  allied  to  the  plague,  than  to  be  mar- 
ried to  such  a  creature.  And,  as  a  final  quality,  your 
intended  bride  should  possess  a  pleasing  countenance. 
I  do  not  say  that  she  needs  to  be  beautiful,  but  since 


COURTSHIP   AND   MARRIAGE.  241 

she  has  to  be  your  constant  companion,  there  must 
be  something  attractive  in  her  form  and  face,  to 
insure  the  continuance  of  affection.  Beware  of  a 
woman  whose  features  express  harshness,  cynicism, 
surliness  or  sourness.  Such  expressions  written  on 
the  countenance  are  the  unerring  indications  of  a 
mind  distempered,  of  an  unamiable  disposition,  of  an 
unhappy  heart.  Therefore,  avoid  all  such,  as  you 
would  shun  the  cholera.  Seek  one  from  whose 
countenance  inward  loveliness  beams  like  the  soft- 
ened light  from  a  transparent  vase. 

"  A  flfect  not  to  despise  beauty :  no  one  is  freed  from  its  domin- 
ion ; 

But  regard  it  not  a  pearl  of  price  ;  — it  is  fleeting  as  the  bow  in 
the  clouds. 

If  the  character  within  be  gentle,  it  often  hath  its  index  in  the 
countenance  — 

The  soft  smile  of  a  loving  face  is  better  than  splendor  that 
fadeth  quickly." 

Remember  that  the  bond  of  marriage  is  as  gyves 
of  brass.     And,  therefore,  you  must  prefer  doing  vio- 
lence to  your  feelings,  rather  than  to  rush-  blindfold 
16 


242  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

into  certain  misery,  which  can  terminate  only  with 
the  life  of  one  of  the  parties. 

But,  whenever  you  can  find  a  lady  possessing  the 
characteristics  I  have  enumerated,  seek  her  society, 
and,  if  you  can,  win  her  pure  affections.  Such  an 
association,  viewed  in  the  aspect  already  exhibited, 
next  to  religion,  is  the  best  and  surest  preserver  of 
virtue  in  a  young  man.  It  will  meet  a  want  of  his 
nature ;  it  will  give  him  an  object  to  love  ;  and  as 
ROUSSEAU  observes,  "  Were  I  in  a  desert,  I  would  find 
out  wherewith  in  it  to  call  forth  my  affections.  If  I 
could  do  no  better,  I  would  fasten  them  upon  some 
sweet  myrtle,  or  some  melancholy  cypress.  I  would 
love  it  for  its  shade,  and  greet  it  kindly  for  its  protec- 
tion. I  would  write  my  name  upon  it,  and  pronounce 
it  the  sweetest  tree  in  all  the  desert.  If  its  leaves 
withered,  I  would  teach  myself  to  mourn ;  and  if  it 
rejoiced,  I  would  rejoice  with  it." 

There  is  much  of  poetry  in  this,  but  there  is  also 
a  great  truth  beautifully  expressed.  The  mind  must 
have  something  to  love,  or  it  will  prey  upon  itself. 
But  when  it  finds  an  object  of  sufficient  worth  "  to 


COURTSHIP    AND   MARRIAGE.  243 

lead  it  out  of  itself  to  live  in  and  for  another,"  then, 
it  has  gained  its  counterpart,  and  develops  itself  in  a 
most  pleasing  and  happy  manner.  Therefore,  1  say, 
seek  a  suitable  object  for  your  affection,  though  years 
may  elapse  before  you  are  in  a  condition  to  marry. 
TUPPER  gives  a  reason  for  such  a  step,  in  his  "  Pro- 
verbial Philosophy."  He  says : 

"  They  that  love  early  become  like-minded,  and  the  tempter 

toucheth  them  not : 

They  grow  up  leaning  on  each  other,  as  the  olive  and  the 
vine." 

True  affection,  founded  upon  genuine  esteem, 
must  lie  at  the  basis  of  honorable  and  pure  marriage. 
Without  such  holy  love  in  both  the  parties,  disgust 
and  wretchedness  will  be  the  baleful  fruit  of  their 
legal  alliance  ;  for 

"  He  that  shuts  love  out,  in  turn  shall  be 
Shut  out  from  love,  and  on  her  threshold  lie 
Howling  in  outer  darkness." 

But  even  love  is  not  the  sole  prerequisite  of  a 
happy  marriage.  A  young  man  may  find  it  neces>- 


244  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

sary  to  nip  his  affections  in  the  bud,  if  the  lady  who 
attracts  him  is  far  above  his  rank  in  society.  There 
is  deep  meaning  in  the  poet's  counsel,  who  says  : 

u  Be  joined  to  thine  equal  in  rank,  or  the  foot  of  pride  will  kick 

at  thee  ; 
And  look  not  only  for  riches,  lest  thou  be  mated  with  misery." 

If  she  is  below  your  grade,  providing  she  have 
high  moral  ".ad  mental  qualities,  her  lowliness  and 
poverty  need  not  stand  in  the  way  of  your  affection, 
since  marriage  always  raises  or  depresses  the  woman 
to  the  level  of  her  husband.  Marry  not  for  money's 
sake.  Such  an  union  is  an  abomination  before  God, 
and  a  degradation  to  the  parties.  Better  let  your 
bride  resemble  the  Greek  maiden,  who,  when  asked 
what  fortune  she  should  bring  to  her  husband,  nobly 
replied  : 

"  I  will  bring  him  what  gold  cannot  purchase  —  a 
heart  unspotted,  and  virtue  without  a  stain,  which 
portion  is  all  that  descended  to  me  from  my  pa 
rents." 

Neither,  if  you  happen  to  have  wealth,  should  you 


COURTSHIP   AND   MARRIAGE.  245 

select  a  bride  who  is  more  influenced  by  your  in- 
vested moneys  and  flourishing  business  than  by  pure 
affection.  There  are  women,  of  whom,  to  the  dis- 
grace of  their  sex,  it  may  be  said,  in  the  language  of 
Byron : 

"  But  pomp  and  power  alone  are  woman's  care, 

And  where  these  are,  light  Eros  finds  a  fare  ; 
Maidens,  like  moths,  are  ever  caught  by  glare, 
And  mammon  wins  his  way  where  seraphs  might  despair." 

Shun  all  such  creatures.  You  had  better  take  a 
riper  into  your  bosom. 

Avoid  also  a  sceptical  woman.  In  these  days  of 
ultraism  and  radicalism,  there  are  many  such  "moral 
•nonsters,"  who,  forgetful  of  the  hope  and  faith  we 
naturally  expect  from  their  sex,  have  broken  loose 
from  their  God,  from  the  holy  Scriptures,  and  from 
the  delicacy  of  woman's  nature.  Such  unfeminine 
creatures  brawl  loudly  against  revelation,  and  even 
venture  before  the  public  as  loquacious  leaguers  with 
Voltaire,  Paine,  and  Abner  Kneeland.  Such  women 
are  unfit  for  marriage.  If  they  respect  not  the  claims 
of  God,  nor  heed  the  bonds  which  bind  them  to  relig- 


246  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

ion,  how  can  they  be  expected  to  be  faithful  to  the 
law  which  binds  them  to  a  husband  ?  Impossible  ! 
infidel*  men  have  understood  this.  Hence,  LORD 
CHESTERFIELD  counselled  his  son  to  marry  a  woman 
of  pious  tendencies ;  and  DR.  BRAINARD  mentions  a 
very  profane  man,  who  expressed  joy  that  he  was 
not  "to  be  linked  to  a  female  infidel,"  whom  he 
heard  question  the  truth  of  the  Bible.  These  men, 
bad  as  they  were  in  other  respects,  were  right  in 
their  opinion  of  the  unfitness  of  a  sceptical  woman  to 
be  a  wife.  Do  you  take  heed,  my  young  friend,  and 
keep  your  affections  free  from  such.  Celibacy  is  far 
better  than  wedlock  at  the  altar  of  infidelity. 

Be  not  in  haste  to  wed.  While  early  marriages 
are  to  be  encouraged,  if  circumstances  are  favorable 
it  is  the  height  of  folly,  and  often  the  first  step  to  a 
long  career  of  bitterness,  for  parties  to  marry  without 
any  reasonable  prospect  of  comfortable  support. 

"  Marry  not  without  means  ;  for  so  shouldst  thou  tempt  Provi- 
dence ; 

But  wait  not  for  more  than  enough  ;  for  marriage  is  the  DUTY 
of  most  men." 


COURTSHIP    AND    MARRIAGE.  247 

This  is  excellent  counsel.  A  young  man  should 
wait  until  his  income  is  sufficient,  his  business  estab- 
lished, his  resources  somewhat  certain.  Marriage 
brings  with  it  many  expenses,  and  these  increase 
with  time;  and  a  marriage  without  means  will  sure- 
ly bring  poverty  and  sorrow.  Affection  is  a  poor 
banker,  a  miserable  purveyor,  a  wretched. landlord. 
With  limited  means  it  may  do  well,  since  it  stimu- 
lates industry,  excites  energy,  and  can  invent  many 
innocent  devices  to  compel  small  resources  to  supply 

large  wants.     Prudence  must  be  allowed  to  utter  its 

t 
cautions  in  this  matter;   and  if  you  are  prudent, 

young  man,  you  shall  do  well. 

In  courtship,  a  young  man  should  be  stable.  A 
marriage  engagement  is  a  solemn  and  a  serious 
affair.  It  takes  a  deep  hold  on  the  heart  of  a  young 
woman.  Her  first  love  is  a  holy  thing.  It  becomes 
life  and  gladness  to  her  spirit.  But, 

(<  If  the  love  of  the  heart  is  blighted,  it  buddeth  not  again  : 
If  that  pleasant  song  is  forgotten,  it  is  to  be  learnt  no  more  ; 
Yet  often  will  thought  look  back,  and  weep  over  early  affection ; 
And  the  dim  notes  of  that  pleasant  song  will  be  heard  as  a 
reproachful  spirit, 


248  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

Moaning  in  ^olian  strains  over  the  desert  of  the  heart, 

When  the  hot  siroccos  of  the  world  have  withered  its  one  oasis." 

If  these  affecting  lines  are  true  to  experience,  what 
shall  be  said  of  a  young  man  who  sedulously  seeks 
a  young  girl's  love,  until,  in  her  trustful  simplicity, 
she  yields  him  her  whole  heart,  and  looks  up  to 
him  as  the  future  companion  of  her  life,  and  then, 
through  sheer  fickleness,  abandons  her  for  another  ? 
Is  he  not  cruel,  heartless,  and  false  ?  Does  he  not 
inflict  a  deadly  wound  on  her  spirit,  from  which 
she  may  never  wholly  recover  ?  Does  he  not  de- 
serve the  severest  reprehension  ?  He  does  ;  and 
be  assured,  that  no  young  man  can  be  guilty  of 
such  reckless  trifling  with  the  female  heart,  with- 
out being  subsequently  visited  by  the  retributions  of 
an  avenging  Providence.  His  sin  will  "find  him 
out." 

But  what,  if  his  first  promises  were  prematurely 
given,  and  further  acquaintance  convinces  him  that 
the  lady's  ill  qualities  are  such  as  will  certainly  em- 
bitter his  life,  in  the  event  of  marriage  ?  Is  he  then 


COURTSHIP   AND   MARRIAGE.  249 

to  consummate  his  courtship,  and  enter  with  open 
eyes  upon  an  "  ill  assorted  "  union  ? 

To  this  I  answer,  certainly  not,  providing  there 
is  a  discovery  of  positive  unfitness,  and  not  a  mere 
excuse  for  instability.  The  parties  had  better  suffer 
the  pang  of  separation  during  courtship,  than  to  be 
yoked  to  a  heritage  of  misery  and  sorrow  for  life. 
But,  beware  lest  mere  fickleness  leads  you  to  imag- 
ine faults  merely  to  furnish  an  excuse  for  the  viola- 
tion of  your  engagement!  Prefer  to  keep'  your 
promise  unbroken,  if  it  be  at  all  consistent  with  your 
hopes  of  happiness.  The  true  remedy  for  such  sepa- 
rations is  prevention.  Let  your  first  advances  be 
sufficiently  cautious  to  enable  you  to  judge  of  the 
lady's  character  before  you  enter  on  more  familiar 
intercourse.  And  another  means  is  to  treat  your 
courtship  as  a  serious  part  of  your  "conduct.  Carry 
it  on  in  a  manner  consistent  with  the  high  purposes 
of  marriage.  Not  with  silly  gigglings  and  idle  com- 
monplaces. Seek  to  cultivate  each  other's  tastes,  to 
call  forth  ideas  and  modes  of  thought  hitherto  unde- 
veloped. Aim  to  produce  a  spiritual  union  between 


250  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

yourselves.  By  this  means  the  little  things  which 
usually  separate  betrothed  parties  will  not  disturb 
your  intercourse.  You  will  be  satisfied  with  each 
other,  and  fitted  for  the  more  intimate  and  sacred 
unity  of  the  marriage  state. 

Against  one  disgusting  practice,  but  too  popular  in 
many  parts  of  the  country,  allow  me  to  earnestly 
counsel  you.  I  mean  the  habit  of  sitting  up  to  a 
late  hour  of  the  night  with  your  betrothed.  While 
there  cannot  be  one  reason  urged  in  defence  of  this 
unchristian  custom,  there  are  serious  objections 
against  it.  It  injures  health  ;  it  unfits  for  the  duties 
of  the  next  day;  it  has  an  impure  aspect,  and  is 
a  temptation  to  virtue.  By  all  the  decencies  and 
proprieties  of  life,  I  beg  you,  young  man,  to  have 
self-respect  sufficient  to  set  yourself  heartily  against 
it.  Let  your  intercourse  take  place  at  proper  hours, 
and  under  circumstances  which  favor  you  and 
yours  in  acquiring  an  affinity  of  tastes  and  opin- 
ions. 

I  cannot,  perhaps,  close  this  chapter,  on  courtship 
and  marriage,  more  profitably  than  by  giving  the 


COURTSHIP   AND   MARRIAGE.  251 

eccentric  and  celebrated  William  Cobbett's  account 
of  his  courtship.  He  was  a  sergeant-major  in  a 
British  regiment  of  foot,  serving  in  Canada,  when  he 
first  met  the  lady  who  afterwards  became  his  wife. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  a  sergeant  of  artillery,  so 
that  in  rank  they  were  pretty  equally  matched.  He 
first  met  her  in  company,  and  was  forcibly  struck 
with  the  beauty  of  her  countenance,  and  the  marked 
propriety  of  her  behavior.  He  resolved  to  note  her 
conduct,  and  to  study  her  character.  A  few  morn- 
ings after  this  first  introduction,  he  took  occasion  to 
walk,  with  one  or  two  companions,  past  her  father's 
house.  Although  it  was  scarcely  light,  he  saw  her 
at  the  door,  cheerfully  scrubbing  out  a  wash-tub  on 
the  snow.  This  confirmed  his  good  opinion.  Fur- 
ther observation  being  still  more  in  her  favor>  he 
made  up  his  mind  that  she  should  be  his  wife  at  a 
proper  time.  This  purpose  he  never  dreamed  of 
changing.  It  was  settled  in  his  mind,  and  he  treated 
her  accordingly.  Her  father's  regiment  being  ordered 
to  England,  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  be  separated. 
To  show  the  fixedness  of  his  purpose,  and  the  confi- 


252  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

dence  he  had  in  her  affection,  he  gave  her  the  entirs 
amount  of  his  savings,  —  six  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars, —  bidding  her  use  it,  if  necessary  for  her  per- 
sonal comfort,  before  his  arrival  in  England.  This 
confidence  was  not  misplaced.  Though  over  four 
years  elapsed  before  she  saw  him  again,  and  she  had 
to  work  hard,  as  a  house-servant,  for  a  living,  yet 
she  remained  true  to  her  vows,  and  returned  him 
every  dollar  of  the  money  he  had  placed  in  her 
hands.  He  married  her,  and  attributed  much  of 
his  signal  success  in  life  to  her  very  excellent  qual- 
ities. 

But  notwithstanding  Mr.  Cobbett's  fidelity  to  his 
first  promise  of  marriage,  he  narrowly  escaped  the 
guilt  of  its  violation.  His  betrothed  had  been  absent 
two  years.  He  was  rambling  in  the  woods  of  New 
Brunswick,  when  he  stumbled  upon  a  clearing,  with 
a  farmer  who  offered  him  the  hospitalities  of  his 
home.  This  sturdy  backwoodsman  had  a  daughter, 
aged  nineteen  —  a  finely  formed,  blue-eyed  girl,  with 
long,  light-brown  hair.  Young  Cobbett  was  charmed. 
He  repeatedly  visited  the  place,  mingled  in  the  par- 


COURTSHIP   AND    MARRIAGE.  253 

ties  and  merrymakings  of  the  homestead ;  and,  not- 
withstanding he  felt  conscious  of  being  attracted  by 
the  young  lady,  and  that  she  was  also  becoming 
interested  in  him,  persisted  to  visit  her,  until  the 
idea  of  parting  grew  exceedingly  painful  to  both. 
Happily,  his  sense  of  obligation  was  strong ;  and, 
wrong  as  he  was  in  placing  himself  within  the  sphere 
of  temptation,  and  in  trifling  with  the  affections  of 
another,  he  remained  faithful  to  his  first  vows.  This 
wrong  of  indulging  in  the  society  of  the  lady  of  the 
woods  he  very  ingenuously  confesses,  and  bids  others 
act  more  wisely  and  cautiously,  lest  they  should  lack 
the  self-control  which  finally  saved  him  from  becom- 
ing a  covenant-breaker.  I  join  my  counsel  to  his, 
and  advise  every  young  man,  first,  to  exercise  due 
caution  before  making  a  marriage  engagement; 
secondly,  having  made  it,  to  consider  it  inviolable, 
except  under  very  extraordinary  circumstances ; 
thirdly,  to  defer  his  marriage  until,  in  the  opinions 
of  his  parents  or  judicious  friends,  the  suitable  time 
has  arrived  ;  and,  finally,  to  enter  the  marriage 


254  YOUNG  MAN'S  COUNSELLOR. 

state  with  pure,  spiritual,  and  holy  views,  that  it 
be  a  real  blessing  to  him  and  his  bride  in  both 
worlds.* 


CONCLUDING    NOTE. 

AND  now,  dear  young  friend,  I  must  bid  you  adieu. 
I  have  urged  the  practice  of  great  principles  upon 
your  understanding  and  heart,  that  you  may  win  the 
prize  of  a  happy  and  successful  life.  I  have  stimu- 
lated you  to  be  eminent  in  your  profession,  by  the 
due  observance  of  the  great  and  holy  truths  revealed 
in  the  Divine  Word.  Not  that  I  consider  success  in 
this  life  to  be  the  end  of  your  existence.  No !  To 
glorify  God,  to  attain  His  moral  likeness,  to  diffuse 
enjoyment  among  your  fellow-creatures,  —  these  are 
the  grand  aims  of  human  life.  But  in  reaching 
these  aims  — in  grasping  the  greater— you  will  more 
surely  reach  the  lesser  than  by  any  other  method ; 
for,  religion  is  the  good  genius  of  both  worlds.  This 

*  For  Counsels  to  the  Married,  see  a  recent  work  by  the  author, 
entitled  "  Bridal  Greetings,"  &c. 


COURTSHIP    AND    MARRIAGE.  255 

idea  I  have  endeavored  to  illustrate  in  the  preceding 
pages.  Let  me  entreat  you  to  seize  it  heartily  and 
earnestly !  Let  it  blend  with  all  your  thinkings. 
Allow  it  to  mould  your  character,  to  govern  your 
conduct.  Thus  will  you  rise  to  usefulness  and 
enjoyment  on  earth,  and  to  a  place  in  that  moral 
firmament  where  the  wise  and  good  "  SHALL  SHINE 

AS  THE  STARS  FOR  EVER  AND  EVER." 


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